Spellbound
by Inylan Ledding
Summary: [WIP] After an eventful summer, Harry and friends return to an even more eventful, and dangerous, school year. Slash. Edited and reposted.
1. Broken Window

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A/N: Oh joys. Some anti-slash lover out there decided they didn't like _Spellbound _and reported it. The administration decided that some of the scenes were slightly underrated, so they deleted the entire thing. Sorry guys, but all the reviews are gone. I want to thank those of you who have stuck with me so long, and as a reward, after I finished editing and reposting all the chapters you've seen, you'll get the chapter ten! Whee! I'll post one at a time, one or two a day, so your inbox won't be too overloaded.

The originals will still be posted on my website. Go to my bio page and click the home page link, and you'll get there.

For updates, check my LiveJournal: kickchick214

Read on faithful fans! And chocolate dipped Harry and Dracos to you all!

Harry walked down the corridor in the Ministry of Magic, quickly approaching the door at the end. Grasping the handle, he pulled it open quietly, his heart beating with excitement as he crossed the chamber of spinning doors and walked into the room of prophecies.

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Aisle ninety-seven, he thought. _I just need to reach aisle ninety-seven_.

He reached the row, turned the corner, and came face to face with Draco Malfoy.

Startled, Harry stepped back a couple of paces as Draco turned towards him.

"Potter. What a surprise to see you here," spat Draco, every word dripping with sarcasm.

Harry remained silent, holding Draco's gaze steadily. He wasn't going to let Draco know that he was standing in front of the one prophecy he wanted, he needed.

Draco glided forward, making no noise as he drew face to face with Harry. Draco saw himself reflected in Harry's glasses, his gray eyes locked on Harry's. An evil smile curled around the corners of his lips, sending a flash of malice across his face. Harry reached for his wand in his pocket, but the minute Draco sensed him move, he had his wand out and pointed directly at Harry's forehead.

"Go ahead, Potter. I'm sure I'm no match for Lord Voldemort, but I can put up a fight."

Harry drew out his wand just as Malfoy closed the distance between them, pinning Harry against the wall. He had his and poised directly above the scar. The little smile had turned into a wide grin, and Harry closed his eyes as he saw Draco open his mouth to curse him.

But instead of excruciating pain, nothing happened. In fact, he didn't even hear Draco mutter the words.

All of a sudden, his scar was hurting, not the kind of pain that usually came with sensing Voldemort's emotions, but being... poked?

Harry's hands flew up to his forehead, smacking Hedwig, who was seated on Harry's chest and was nipping his face, trying to wake him up.

"Alright, Alright! I'm up, you bloody bird," muttered Harry as he groped around in the dark for his glasses. He was about to turn on the lamp when he heard laughter outside his window. Crawling over to the sill, Harry saw a figure on a broomstick whiz by, then zoom out of sight over the house. Harry was about to open the window and call out when there was a loud explosion in the kitchen.

"HARRY!"

Harry bolted out of his room, throwing on his robe as he took the stairs two at a time. As he slid into the kitchen, he saw the scattered remains of some sort of packaging strewn over the floor, the shards of glass from the window mixed in with it. And sitting in the middle of it all was a small envelope made of thick parchment.

Harry scooped up the envelope and shoved it in his pocket without looking at the writing. The Dursleys stormed in the next moment, Uncle Vernon as purple as ever and Dudley whimpering loudly behind his shaking mother. All three stared open-mouthed in horror at the scene before them, not believing their eyes.

"What in the world is going on?" seethed Uncle Vernon, turning on Harry. "WHAT DID YOUR BLOODY FRIENDS DO TO MY WINDOW?!"

"My friends? There isn't a trace of magic in the entire thing! It looks like something a Muggle prankster would do," shot back Harry, his eyes flashing.

"DO NOT SAY THE M WORD IN THIS HOUSE!"

"Which one? Magic or muggle?" said Harry grimly, watching as his Uncle' face turned a deeper shade of purple.

"Either! Your ruddy little friends are going to get us all killed! The neighbors will have heard! What are we going to tell them? That the Prime Minister was having a bit of pre-Hallowe'en fun?"

"I told you, it wasn't my friends!" retorted Harry, his patience stretching thin.

"Than who was it?" whispered Uncle Vernon, leaning in to get his face right next to Harry's, suppressed anger hidden in his tone.

"I don't know," Harry managed through clenched teeth. He turned away from Uncle

Vernon and stormed up the stairs, purposely slamming and locking his door a little bit harder than necessary.

Collapsing on the bed from a wave of exhaustion, he stretched his arms over his head and lay there staring at the ceiling. His mind needed a minute to catch up with everything that had happened so quickly. The dream was nothing new- ever since the battle at the Ministry at the end of his fifth year, he'd been having different versions of the dream. Some times Luna Lovegood would be handing out free copies of The Quibbler in exchange for giving the prophecy to Voldemort, sometimes Ron and Hermione would try to drag him out of the room and into the room with brains, and sometimes Cho would stand there and cry in the room of spinning doors, but the doors would never stop spinning.

The laughing figure on the broomstick was another matter altogether. This wasn't the first time that someone had made an anonymous visit, but it was the first time that they had attacked with anything. Harry had a notion that Malfoy was trying to repay him for revealing his father as a Death Eater by plaguing him throughout the summer, but he hadn't expected to be attacked by his classmates. A Dementor, maybe, but this was a surprise.

Harry reached down into his pocket and drew out the envelope. The only thing written on the outside was his name in a slender, scrawling print. Inside he found a single sheet of paper, once again with very little written on it.

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Watch it, Potter. Don't want to end up like your godfather, do you?

Harry froze. Whoever had written the letter knew about Sirius and the curtain, the fight between The Order and the Death Eaters.

Blinking back tears at the thought of Sirius, Harry tore the paper into shreds and tossed them into the bottom of Hedwig's cage. He fell back into the bed, pulling the sheets up as he turned over on his side and stared at the wall. He felt the blanket of deep sleep start to cover him, tearing him away from the real world. He closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and sat up with a start as something knocked on the window.

Even without any lights on and his glasses askew, Harry could see the pale skin and gray eyes illuminated by the moonlight. Draco tossed his blonde hair out of his face as he gave up knocking and slid the window open, climbed inside and set his broom against the wall.

"Nice pajamas, Potter," he snarled.

"What the hell are you doing, Malfoy?" hissed Harry, still stunned.

"I'm sitting down, that's what I'm doing." Draco walked over to the desk and pulled the chair over to Harry's bed, straddling it and resting his head on the back. "So, how's your summer been?"

Harry was about to reply with "What do you think?" when reality hit him. The boy who had tortured and taunted him the past five years, who had stalked him this summer, and who had probably just broken the window in the kitchen was sitting at the foot of the bed, acting as if they were good friends.

"How's my summer been? I've been getting nightly visits from people I don't know-"

"Hope they paid," Draco muttered under his breath.

Harry glared at him and continued. "And for some reason, about three seconds after I see someone flying around my house, someone pulls a Muggle prank and throws something through my kitchen window. I wonder who it could be." Harry glared at Draco, his green eyes flashing.

"And naturally, you think I did it," Draco said in a bored tone.

"Of course I think it was you! Who else would be stupid enough to fly around Muggles just to torment me all summer long?"

"Potter, are you thick enough to think I'd risk my neck- and probably the rest of the wizarding world, too- just to bother you all summer? It would be a thrill," he added to himself with a dry smile. "But if I did, I'd pull something a little more original than an exploding box through a window."

"How'd you know it was an exploding box?" asked Harry, his suspicion growing a bit.

"I've been sitting on the roof for the past half hour waiting for you to wake up. Finally your ruddy bird saw me and tried to get you up, but it took forever."

"Why didn't you just climb in through the window like you did a minute ago?"

"You were sleeping- didn't want you to have a rude awakening. Plus, it's impolite to enter someone's house without being asked."

"When have manners ever stopped you in the past?"

Draco rolled his eyes at Harry, then continued. "I saw whoever it was fly up and toss something through the window, and it wasn't too hard to figure out what it was once it exploded."

Harry sat thinking for a moment, than asked, "Why were you sitting on my roof in the first place? It's the middle of summer, and honestly, Privet Drive is not the most delightful vacation spot."

"It's a long story, I'll explain it to you in a minute. Do you have a first aid kit? I left my wand at home, and I need some help." Draco pulled back the collar of his robes, uncovering a deep, bleeding gash that ran from right underneath his collarbone down his side farther than Harry could see. Without saying anything, Harry went and found he first aid kit, knowing exactly where it was from his numerous beatings from Dudley, and came back to find Draco looking a bit paler than usual.

"Uh, your going to have to, uh, take off your, um..." Harry didn't know how to tell Draco that he needed to take off his shirt and robes so that he could clean it without making it sound kinky.

"Potter, I pity your future wife," Draco laughed weakly, shaking his head as he pulled off his shirt.

With the last bit of the gash revealed, Harry saw how bad the cut really was. It extended all the way down to his hip, and looking at the shirt, Harry could see the blood-soaked rip where whatever had sliced Draco open had also ruined his clothes.

"My God, what the hell happened?" Harry exclaimed softly as he started unwrapping pads and bandages.

"It was just a little fight, that's all." Draco winced as Harry starting cleaning out the wound. The blood bubbled and fizzed as the hydrogen peroxide mixed with it, contorting Draco's face into a mask of pain. Harry kept silent, not wanting to push Draco- the other boy seemed to have enough trouble just managing to stand up without having to explain the injury.

Draco drew a sharp intake of breath as Harry began to spread anti-bacterial ointment over the wound. A few minutes and a good supply of tape and gauze pads later, Draco was temporarily treated. Harry made him lie down on the bed; Draco seemed to be getting paler by the minute, and Harry thought he might become transparent if he lost any more blood.

"Muggle healing a bit more painful than it looks, huh?" Harry asked with a half smile. Draco just grunted and stared at the ceiling for a while, for once at a loss for words.

They sat there silently, Harry's mind turning cartwheels with thoughts of flying stalkers and Draco's slashed-open torso. Draco remained motionless except for the shallow rise and fall of his chest, shuddering every so often with the pain of breathing. Eventually, the shudders became shivers, and Harry found on oversized old sweatshirt and helped Draco put it on. When Draco was settled back in, seemingly more comfortable, Harry broke the silence.

"Why did you come here?" Harry voiced the question that had been in the forefront of his mind for the past few minutes. "It's a well-known fact that Privet Drive is not adjacent to Malfoy Manor. What about your friends? What about Crabbe and Goyle? Why'd you come to me?"

Draco sighed and looked out the window, trying to decide if he should explain what happened, or if he should just keep his mouth shut and let Harry wonder.

"It's a difficult story to tell," began Draco, shifting his eyes down to the bedspread. His hands were worrying the edge of the sheets, as if trying to iron them. "You know my dad's a Death Eater, there's no denying that now, but you don't know what he's like at home. He's not just another strict dad," Draco confessed, "he's horrible."

Harry watched Draco quietly, not daring to break the other boy's concentration. The expression on Draco's face wasn't fear or anger, but a mixture of both.

"He told me at the beginning of the summer that there would be a surprise for me when came home, and I thought it would be some Dark Arts heirloom that I could fool with. Well, it did have to do with the Dark Arts," Draco said with a wry smile. "Just not the kind I was thinking of.

"I was to be on good behavior all summer- he convinced me that being a little more mature would increase the power of the gift. I believed him. That's why I haven't been torturing you; I've been at home being 'more mature' so I could mess with Dark Magic. Yesterday, he told me that today was when I'd get the present, and I was so excited I didn't even realize what was going on until it was almost too late.

"This morning he was getting ready to take me when he let it slip. 'You'll finally be one of us, Draco. Finally you can be the wizard I've always wanted you to be.' That's what he said."

Draco's voice had dropped to almost a whisper, and Harry was straining to hear him. Both were still for a moment, then Draco buried his head in his hands and sighed.

"I don't want to be a Death Eater," he conceded. "I thought I supported Voldemort, but I can't. He's so ruthless that it's sickening. He even tortures his own followers into submission. It's not worth it. So I told my dad no, that I didn't want to do it, that I wasn't ready. Obviously, he didn't take to that very kindly. I tried to out of there, but my Nimbus 2001 just was fast enough, as you see." Draco took a shuddering breath before continuing. "He hit me with some curse that has the same effects as a sword, which explains the gash. Guess he couldn't bring himself to kill his own kid yet," he finished with a frown, pulling the sheets up over his legs. He had gotten some color back, but he was shivering more than before. Harry grabbed another blanket and handed it him, then sat down at the foot of the bed, right across from Draco.

"And you came to me because?" Harry prompted.

"There was no way that I was going to ask Crabbe and Goyle for help- their fathers are Death Eaters, too. Plus, they're way too stupid, and they would have wanted to know why I turned down the offer. I couldn't go to Weasley- he'd hex me the moment he set eyes on me. I don't know where Hermione lives, so you were my last chance."

"And how'd you know where I live?"

"Easy. Everyone's always talking about the boy wonder who lives on Privet Drive with his Muggle family. And it wasn't too hard to find the house; your's was the only one with a snowy white owl sitting in the window."

Harry glanced over at Hedwig, who was still ruffled at being smacked. Harry smiled and shook his head, then looked at Draco, who was staring at him.

"What?"

"You don't know how lucky you are Potter. You have friends that would die for you in a heartbeat, and entire world full of wizards protecting you, and you only have to spend one season a year with your family."

Harry couldn't bring himself to look at Draco. Draco was right; he was lucky. He didn't have everything a sixteen year old boy could ask for, but he did have a lot of things that some people, wizards or Muggles, would never be able to find.

Harry stretched out his hand and let it close over Draco's. Draco look puzzled for a minute, then intertwined his fingers with Harry's. Harry shifted around until he was lying side by side with Draco, their hands clasped between them.

"What about your Uncle?" Draco whispered. "Won't he flip when he finds me here?"

"They won't come in my room. They'll bolt it from the outside and slip food in through the flap, like they usually do when they get mad at me."

They lay placidly, lost in their own thoughts, the mutual silence between them as comfortable as if they had been friends for a long time.

"Thanks, Harry," said Draco softly, closing his eyes and sinking into the mattress.

"Your welcome," replied Harry, who lay thinking for a long time after Draco had fallen asleep.

Draco woke up to find his side didn't hurt quite as badly as it had the night before, but he couldn't feel his arm. Turning over, he realized Harry was sleeping on top of his elbow, preventing him from getting up.

__

Well, I guess I'll just have to spend the morning in bed with Harry, he thought to himself.

Strangely enough, Draco felt right at home in this small, cramped Muggle room. It was nothing like Malfoy Manor, with peeling walls and a warm wooden floor in place of cold, damp stone. It was a mess, he noticed; Harry didn't seem to care what people thought of it. Then again, he probably wasn't getting too many visitors these days, either. Except for the ones on broomsticks.

Draco mulled over the bits and pieces Harry had told him the night before. It sounded like

Harry was getting frequent visits from some idiot on a broomstick who felt like playing tricks. They were good enough not to get caught, yet, but they were getting a little reckless if they were hurling objects into the house. Draco immediately ruled out Crabbe and Goyle: they were too thick to be creative enough to think of bothering Potter all summer. Draco knew that Harry had a good list of classmates at Hogwarts who weren't all too keen on him, most of them Slytherins. Add to that list a Snape, and a few members of the Ministry of Magic, and to top it all off, Voldemort and his legions.

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This kid sure has made a lot of enemies, wondered Draco. _And other than Voldemort, I was probably the worst_.

Draco came out of his reverie as Harry started fidgeting. Harry rolled over, bringing himself and Draco only inches apart. His eyes opened slowly, blinking in the bright glare of sunlight through the window, then looked at Draco, who was staring at Harry with an odd smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Morning," said Draco. "Sleep well?"

After Harry's eyes adjusted to the morning glare, he found himself looking directly into Draco's eyes, which, even though Harry wasn't glasses, were very clear at such close range. Harry noticed a lock of Draco's hair had fallen into his eyes, reflecting the sun.

__

Overall, he looks very fetching, thought Harry. Realizing what had just gone through his mind, he tried to put some space between them, but only succeeded in falling off the bed.

"Must have not slept that well if you can't even lay down without falling over," muttered Draco as Harry pulled himself to his feet and climbed back in the bed, sitting upright at Draco's feet. Draco raised and eyebrow that was accompanied by a questioning look, causing Harry to turn red. Draco just smiled, laughing.

"And I thought Weasley was a klutz."

Harry checked the door, which was locked from the outside, as he had predicted. Prying open the loose floorboard, he tossed a chocolate frog to Draco and grabbed one for himself. They ate in silence for several minutes, once again lost in their own thoughts.

"Why'd you help me?" Draco caught Harry off-guard, and Harry paused before answering.

"You were hurt, and I wasn't going to make you go somewhere else to get help. You'd lost enough blood already, and you were paler than I'd ever seen you-"

"No, Potter, why'd you really help me? Other than all the medical reasons. You of all people would have had the right to turn me away and let me bleed to death, but you took me in, fixed me up, fed me, and let me sleep with you- Oh, get your mind out of the gutter," exclaimed Draco as Harry's eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Why?"

"I dunno... you needed me, I guess, and..." Harry trailed off, at a loss for words. "Won't your father be looking for you?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Yea, but the absolute last place he would look would be your house, so I'll be safe for a couple days, at the least. Do you have any more chocolate frogs?"

Harry grabbed a few more and sat down again.

"About the person on the broomstick," managed Draco around a mouthful of frog. He swallowed before continuing. "It could be just about anybody. Were you able to tell if it was male or female? Any glimpse of hair?"

"The laughter certainly sounded female, but whoever it was looked pretty tall," Harry thought aloud, thinking back to his brief glance of them. "Other than that, I don't think that there's anything that would distinguish them from anyone else. Had the hood up, so I didn't catch the face or hair color. Fast broom, though."

Draco shook his head. Leave it to Potter to be analyzing brooms when people were dive bombing his house. "What was in the package? Dungbombs? Cockroach Clusters? A Portkey to Voldemort's living room?"

Harry went pale. "It was a letter," he said softly, pain leaking through the words. "It said, 'Watch it Potter. Don't want to end up like your... your godfather, do you?'" His voice had been trailing off the entire time, and Draco had to strain his ears to hear the last word. Hearing this, Draco thought back to the beginning of the summer, his dad gloating over the fact that Harry had now lost every living relative with a trace of magic in them.

"I'm sorry," said Draco, knowing that it was mainly his father's fault for luring Harry into the Ministry that night. _Damn you, father. Don't you ever see what pain and destruction you cause? Don't you ever care?_

"It's alright, it's just still painful to think about," answered Harry, ducking his head so Draco couldn't see the tears welling up in his eyes. After he had himself under control, Harry retrieved the first-aid kit. "Stand-up. I need to change the bandage."

Draco did as he was told, undressing without any snide remarks. The cut had healed a bit, and it had stopped bleeding, but the skin around the edges was puffy and sore. Harry was almost finished wrapping tape around the gauze pads when the locks and bolts on the outside of the door began to slide open. Draco froze, wide-eyed, but Harry snatched his invisibility cloak and threw it to Draco, who slid it on just as Uncle Vernon stormed into the room.

"Think you got off easy last night, don't you?" Uncle Vernon had a malicious grin spreading over his very fat, very purple face. "Think by storming off you won't have to clean it up? Think again, my boy!" he crowed, a hideous laugh escaping his wide throat. "You get to come downstairs, right now, and clean it up, and then you get to stay in your room for the rest of the week, no owls, no phone calls, no visits! And if I see that ruddy bird flying around at ANY time of the day or night, I'll shoot it! Come on!" With that he grabbed Harry by the wrist and dragged him out of the room. Harry mouthed "Keep quiet" over his shoulder just before he disappeared from view, leaving Draco alone.

He stood leaning against the wall, listening to the sounds of brooms sweeping up broken glass and the constant rumble of Uncle Vernon's threats. Glancing to make sure no one was in the doorway, he knelt down and began to rummage through Harry's trunk. There wasn't much there; most of it was scattered on the floor already. Draco came across the Sneakoscope Ron had bought Harry in Cairo, the almost empty homework diary Hermione had given him last Christmas, and a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

Brushing these aside, Draco found a photo album, pretty thick, and pulled it out. He sat on the floor in front of the trunk, flipping through the pictures of Harry's parents.

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They really did look a lot alike, Draco mused as he studied Harry's father. _And he definitely has his mom's emerald green eyes_. Draco smiled in spite of himself. In every picture Harry's parents were smiling and laughing, mingling with friends or talking amongst themselves. They waved at Draco, then turned back to the activity at hand. Draco wondered if they would be so amiable towards him if they knew what he had done to their son for the past five years.

"Who are you?"

Draco turned towards the door to find a huge, repulsive figure that somewhat resembled a human staring at him through squinted eyes. The invisibility cloak must have slipped off as he went through Harry's trunk. Draco stood up quickly, tossing the album back into the trunk and slamming the lid shut. The creature took a few steps towards him, and Draco couldn't tell if he was about to be questioned or killed.

"You're pretty."

Or molested.

Draco tugged the invisibility cloak back over his head and took a few steps to the left, vanishing completely right in front of the beast. It blinked slowly a couple of times, then took a swipe at where Draco had been standing a moment ago. Finding nothing, its eyes widened a bit more, then it began to scream.

A moment later, Harry was in the room, followed closely by Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon appearing a bit later, panting from the exertion of running up the stairs. Both Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were trying to comfort Dudley, but Harry stood back, searching for a sign of Draco. Before he could find any, Dudley turned on him.

"Where's the vampire?!" he yelled. "Where's the vampire that was here just a minute ago? I was about to..." Dudley stopped, realizing that if he completed the sentence, his parents would send him St. Brutus's for life.

"Vampire? You have a vampire?" Aunt Petunia went white, looking as if she had just been attacked by one. Uncle Vernon had snatched a book of the floor and was looking around to see if there was anything to lash out at. His gaze fell on Harry.

"Where is it boy? Where is the vampire? Tell me!"

"I don't have a vampire," his said with exasperation. "Plus, they can only come out at night, remember? It's the middle of a bright, sunny day, so if Dudley had seen a vampire, it would have been incinerated by now."

Aunt Petunia looked from Harry to Dudley, then seemed to find reason in what Harry was saying. She crossed the room to Dudley and felt his forehead.

"Are you alright, sugar-muffin? Are you feeling overheated? Maybe you need to lie down with a cool glass of water and some cake," she suggested, a worry line creasing her forehead.

"Sure, mum," said Dudley with a sickeningly sweet smile as he walked slowly out of the room, Aunt Petunia following quickly, not wanting to let her sick child out of her sight. As soon as they were gone, Uncle Vernon checked the closet, under the bed, and in all the corners for a sign of any non-welcome creature. Harry panicked as he thought of he bloody shirt, but he couldn't see it anywhere. Neither did Uncle Vernon, who stormed out of the room, prolonging Harry's punishment to two weeks as he bolted the door.

The moment Harry knew Uncle Vernon was out of earshot, he burst out laughing. He threw himself down on the bed and buried his face in a pillow, trying to muffle the sounds so there wouldn't be another week added to his sentence.

"What the hell is so damn funny?" Harry glanced up and burst into another peal of laughter as he saw Draco standing there with his arms crossed, ribbons of tape and gauze pads hanging off him at random intervals. Unable to say anything he just pointed at Draco, who glimpsed himself in the mirror. He did look pretty ridiculous, standing in the middle of the room with no shirt on, bandages barely clinging to him, holding a torn and bloodied t-shirt in one hand and his broomstick in the other. He couldn't help himself- he started laughing, quietly at first, then grabbing one of the pillows to muffle the sound of his own laughter.

"You never told me your cousin had a thing for guys. You never told me that thing was your cousin, either," Draco said through tears of mirth, sitting down on the bed next to Harry.

"How was I supposed to know? He never came after me before. Not complaining, though. How'd he see you?"

"I got bored, so I went looking around your room," Draco admitted sheepishly. "I guess I got a little careless, and the cloak slipped. Next thing I knew, your cousin was advancing on me, calling me pretty and looking like he was going to rape me."

Instead of making Harry more sympathetic, Draco's confession made him laugh harder. The image of Dudley making a move on Draco was disturbing, yet extremely hilarious at the same time. Once the urge to laugh had subsided, he took another look at Draco an shook his head.

"You don't mix to well with Muggle remedies, do you?" he asked, pulling Draco to his feet so that he could remove the mess of tape and gauze pads he'd tried to put on earlier. He began the process all over again, Draco's reaction the stinging medicines less audible this time. As Harry started applying the anti-bacterial ointment, his hands brushed against Draco's ice cold skin, causing him to jump.

"You're freezing," mumbled Harry, hurrying to finish bandaging the wound so Draco could get something warm on.

"Maybe it's because I've lost a good amount of blood in the past twenty- four hours?" Draco smiled coyly, catching the long sleeved shirt and sweater Harry threw him. Draco struggled so long with the shirt that Harry came over and helped him.

"I don't need a nanny, Potter," Draco said gruffly, allowing Harry to help.

"Well, at this point and time, you need me, so get over yourself." Harry finished with the shirt and started pulling the sweater over Draco's head. Once he got to the bottom, his hand lingered on the hem for a moment, as if he couldn't decide whether to let go or not. He turned away, going through his closet for a clean t-shirt and jeans that he could throw on.

"D'you mind not looking for a moment?" Draco turned around, and Harry dressed quickly. He was adjusting his shirt when he felt a cool hand slide around his waist. Harry turned, now face to face with Draco, his heartbeat quickening. Harry realized that they were the same height as he looked into Draco's eyes, which were smiling as he bent closer.

"Nice legs," Draco murmured, brushing his nose against Harry's. "Definitely better than your cousin's."

Harry laughed nervously. "You looked," he accused.

"Of course I looked. You didn't expect me to pass the chance to see the famous Harry Potter half naked, did you?

"I didn't expect you to be interested."

"I didn't expect to be interested either." Draco grinned, running his hands down Harry's sides. He felt Harry shiver, his skin breaking out in goose bumps. "Are you interested?"

Harry linked his arms around Draco's neck and pulled him closer, their bodies perfectly aligned. He tilted his head slightly, appraising Draco through half lidded eyes, then kissed him hard on the mouth. Draco was surprised for a moment; he hadn't thought Harry to be this passionate about it. Then he relaxed, letting his arms encircle Harry, running his fingers over Harry's back. Harry allowed him to slip his hands under his shirt, and Draco could feel Harry smile against his lips. Harry ran his tongue over Draco's bottom lip, sending a thrill of pleasure through his body. Draco opened his mouth, and Harry took the hint and entered.

Harry broke the kiss a moment later, leaving Draco more than a little disoriented. He looked questioningly at Harry, who stepped back and grinned at Draco.

"Yes, I'm interested. Glad you didn't go to Crabbe or Goyle?"

"Very."

The afternoon found Harry sitting on the bed, propped up against the wall. Draco had lain his head in Harry's lap, who was now running his fingers through Draco's hair.

"We can rule out a good amount of people if whoever sent the letter knew about Sirius's death. The Ministry kept that hushed up pretty well," Draco was saying. "That narrows it down to the Death Eaters that were in the Ministry with you, their connections and family, the people that were there fighting on your side, and the people you told afterwards. And, of course, Voldemort."

"I'm pretty sure that the members of the Order wouldn't torment me all summer. Same goes for the people that were there with me. I didn't tell anyone except Dumbledore, and I'm assuming he left Sirius's name out of most of this."

"So we can definitely narrow it down to Voldemort, the Death Eaters, and their minions."

"Real narrow playing field, Malfoy. Wait... minions?"

"Word of the day."

Harry smiled in spite on himself. He had found that Draco, once relaxed, had a pretty good sense of humor. Losing himself in trying to remember all the Death Eaters he had ever seen, and who they would be associated with, he stared off into space. Who would be so unoriginal as to play the Muggle schoolboy? Especially if they were working for Voldemort?

"Ouch! Hey, stop!" Harry realized that he had lost himself so much that he was pulling Draco's hair.

"Sorry," he mumbled, his mind still on Death Eaters.

"So anyways, do you think it could happen?" Draco repeated.

"What?" Harry must have missed whatever Draco had been saying before.

Draco sat up and turned around to face Harry. "You've been distracted through everything I just said, haven't you? I was asking if you think my father would try to send an owl to me, since...Harry? Hello? You alright?"

"Distracted...Draco, you're a genius! I could kiss you!"

"You've already done that. Now, why am I such a genius? Other than the fact that I'm me."

"Distracted! That's all it is, a distraction! Whoever's doing this is trying to make me concentrate on these stupid little attacks, while they're doing something else. I dunno what they're doing, or who's sending it, but I know that this is a distraction!"

Draco smiled grimly. "Looks like we have ourselves a strategist," he joked. "Now, Mr. MI6, tell us who did what in which room with what weapon to receive the grand prize of being able to keep your life!"

"Draco," Harry groaned. "That was pathetic."

"Yea, it was. Wanna snog?" He climbed onto Harry's lap, trapping him against the wall.

"You have a one-track mind, you know? Voldemort could be planning to destroy me right now, and all you want to do is make out," protested Harry without much conviction.

"At least you'd die happy." Draco's tongue flickered over Harry's ear, making him shudder.

"True," Harry admitted, running his fingers along Draco's lips. "Not a bad way to go." He smiled, letting his fingers travel down Draco's neck and rest on his stomach, then encircled his waist and drew him in, losing himself and all thoughts of danger in Draco's deep, powerful kiss.


	2. Surprise Visit

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Okay, this is a post and run, or sleep, or at least toss and turn, whatever you want to call it. It's late, and I hate not to say anything, but I need my sleep. Longer authors note when I post three tomorrow, I promise! And shout outs to those who've reviewed so far.

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Disclaimer: You are visiting Fan Fiction . Net. Does that mean anything to you?

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Only a few days had passed when Harry was again awakened in the middle of the night by knocking. Pushing a groggy Draco out of his way, he stumbled over to the window and opened it to find Hedwig carrying two envelopes.

"Thanks Hedwig," whispered Harry, feeding her a few treats. She nipped him affectionately on the earlobe, then settled into her cage and fell asleep.

"What was that all about?" Draco mumbled, resting on his elbows. "More death threats?"

"Hogwarts letters," replied Harry, tossing Draco's letter to him. "Hedwig was smart enough to go and get them while Uncle Vernon was asleep."

Draco just grunted and rolled over. Harry opened his letter, scanning the list for anything new. He did have to get new robes, since he had shot up over the summer. There wasn't a new Defense Against the Dark Arts book, Harry noted with a frown. All the other teachers had specified books.

__

Oh well, less stuff to carry, he thought, putting the letters on the desk. Climbing back into bed, he lay flat on his back, the ceiling a blur above him.

He hadn't told Draco that the Order was watching him, and that someone had most likely seen Draco fly in but never leave, and that same someone had probably also seen the anonymous figure. It felt wrong to deceive Draco, but it seemed better than having Draco run off and be taken to Voldemort.

It seemed that Voldemort's reach was growing day by day. Harry knew that if Lucius Malfoy had tried to force his son to become a Death Eater, other Death Eaters would soon be doing the same with their children. Who knew how many had joined since the brief glimpse Harry had seen in his fourth year? Setting foot into Hogwarts could be walking into a trap, especially if the Death Eater's children were being trained by their parents like Draco had been.

And what was Voldemort trying to do while he sent distractions in the middle of the night? Harry had the urge to write to Dumbledore, but he knew that the letter could be intercepted anywhere. Ron and Hermione were out of the question, since both of them were at the Order's headquarters until the beginning of Fall term.

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If only Sirius were here, he'd know what to do. Harry felt the lump rise in his throat, but he choked back the tears. Sighing, he rubbed his scar, which had been tingling on and off all summer. Things were beginning to get a little too complicated for his liking.

"Are you ever going to go back to sleep?" Draco turned back over, brushing the hair out of his face. "We've been over just about everything we could cover quite a few times in the past few days, and you of all people need the sleep. Loosen up a bit, just relax," he said softly, a mischievous glint in his eyes, running his fingers lightly along the inside of Harry's thigh. A low moan escaped Harry's mouth as he squirmed with pleasure.

"Draco," he warned, "not now."

"I know, but you are relaxed, aren't you?" Draco smiled as Harry reddened, realizing that he hadn't been concentrating on anything but the other boy for the past minute. "Maybe you can get some sleep now."

"After what you just did? Yea right."

"So you want me to do it again?"

"Yes, no, I mean, not right now," spluttered Harry, turning so his back was facing Draco. "You twist things around too much."

"I know. Definitely gives life a bit of an edge, though." Draco slid over to Harry, pressing his chest into Harry's back. "Think you can sleep now?"

"Yea." Harry snuggled into Draco just as Draco wrapped his arm around Harry's waist.

"Just think, if Dudley ever saw this."

"He'd probably try to make it a threesome," laughed Draco dryly. "But let's not find out, ok?"

"Fine with me. G'night, Draco."

"Night, Harry."

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"We better get down to Diagon Alley soon. Is there any way to get out of this house without letting the Dursleys know?"

Harry paused in the middle of taking off Draco's bandages. He hadn't even thought about buying his supplies, and without any word from the Order, he had no idea what he was going to do.

"I'll write to Ron and Hermione as soon as I put the bandage on. They're staying with the Order, and somehow we'll work things out."

"Ron and Hermione? Are you sure that's the best idea?" Draco turned to face Harry, an odd look crossing his face.

Harry sighed. "You're going to have to get used to them-"

"No, I mean, do you really think that Ron's going to be all that keen on hearing that you and I are... together?"

"What are we going to say, that you apparated here because you ran out of kicks at the manor?"

"We can tell them what happened, just leave out the parts about you and me." Draco pulled his shirt on, avoiding Harry's gaze. "It's already going to be hard enough trying to convince him that I'm trustworthy. Not like I've done too much these past few years to help, though."

"Here's your second chance. Ron's stubborn, but he has a good heart, kind of like you."

Draco looked up, his eyes locking with Harry's. "And Hermione, she'll be a lot easier to convince, still a challenge, but she believes that most everyone has some good in them."

"You're such an optimist," Draco sighed. "How is the rest of the school going to react when the two biggest rivals come back from the vacation acting like great friends? Won't that seem a bit strange?"

"Enough strange things have happened this past year that it'll just shock them for few weeks, then they'll get over it. Maybe it'll help with what the Sorting Hat told us to do, to make alliances with other houses. If that happens, it'll be easier for us to find time alone."

"And you say I have a one-track mind."

"Gives life a little edge, doesn't it?" Harry, let his hand trace the curve of Draco's face.

"That's my line. You better write that letter before you get too entranced by my beauty," Draco advised airily, sending Harry a suggestive smile. "Don't want to get too distracted."

"Stop putting on airs, Malfoy," Harry tore himself away from Draco's stare, rummaging in his desk for a quill and parchment. Dashing off a quick note to Hermione, Harry let her know that he had a "guest" who was also going to be coming with them, but specifically left out names; he would deal with that later. After double checking to make sure that Uncle Vernon was snoring loudly, he sent Hedwig off, hoping no one would intercept her before she reached the Order.

Draco was reading over his Hogwarts letter when Harry finished with Hedwig.

"I wonder who's going to be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year," he thought aloud, not looking for an answer. "You think Dumbledore would be a little more careful this year, the way things are going."

"It's not like he hasn't been careful the past few years," Harry retorted defensively. "It wasn't his fault that the Ministry butted in last year, and that someone impersonated Moody the year before, or that Lockheart was a complete nutcase, or Quirrell had a Dark Lord growing out of the back of his head.".

"Real convincing. And what about the werewolf?"

"Lupin was safe. He's the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had. At least he taught us something." Harry ran his hands through his hair, making it worse than it had been a moment ago. "Hopefully this year we'll get someone who knows something. We need some real training, otherwise we're toast."

They sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own worries.

"Will Hogwarts still be safe?" Draco looked up sharply at Harry's words, caught unawares.

"Of course it'll be safe. Why wouldn't it be?"

Harry sat silently for a long time before answering. "Because I'm there."

"As long as Dumbledore and the other teachers are there, you'll be fine. Voldemort's afraid of them, remember?" Draco squeezed Harry's hand, giving him an assuring smile. "It'll be alright."

Harry was skeptical, but he nodded. "This is definitely going to be one interesting year."

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"A guest? Who would be visiting Harry at his Aunt and Uncle's house?" Hermione muttered as she passed the letter to Ron.

"Maybe Malfoy decided to fly in for a cup of tea." said Ron sarcastically as he tossed the letter onto the table. "Whoever it is, we need to get Harry out of there. Sounds like he's going out of his mind."

"We're going to Diagon Alley this weekend. If Harry's going to come along, we better get him soon."

"Let's go tell mum. She'll figure out what to do."

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Lightning zig zagged across the night sky, lighting up Harry's room with jagged streaks of silver. The boys sat on the bed, facing one another, chatting animatedly about which Quidditch team was going to make it to the World Cup next year when a tremendous clap of thunder shook the house, making Harry jump.

"A tad skittish, aren't we?" mused Draco. Harry smiled innocently, looking chagrined.

"You think Hedwig made it to Ron and Hermione without getting caught by the storm?" Harry glanced out the window, his voice tinged with concern.

"She's a snowy owl. Whatever happens, she'll make it." Draco stretched out longways on the bed, smiling contentedly.

"Why are you so happy?"

"I love the rain, especially pounding thunderstorms. It's relaxing."

"Someone's a romantic," teased Harry as he straddled Draco's waist. "Bring a few candles in here and we could make a cheesy romance novel."

"And what would they say? 'It was a dark stormy night, and as Harry wrestled Draco onto the creaking bed, they kicked over the candles and set the entire neighborhood on fire.'"

"So I'd have to force you, eh?" Harry leaned forward, pinning Draco's arms above his head. "I thought this was one of those mutual relationships."

"It is. Just adds some interest when there's a bit more action." Draco smiled slyly, twisting his leg around Harry's. Harry leaned so close that Draco felt Harry's lips move against his more than he heard spoken words.

"What kind of action do you want? This?" He let go of Draco's wrists and began lightly tracing circles over Draco's chest, feeling the other boy inhale sharply. "Or this?" Harry snaked a trail of feverish kisses down Draco's neck, licking the hollow above his collarbone. Draco moaned softly, arcing up to meet Harry's warm body, his hands tangled in Harry's unruly hair. Harry tenderly caressed Draco's cheek with his lips, his tongue occasionally brushing against his skin.

Harry paused directly above Draco's face, his eyelashes tickling Draco's eyelids. He searched Draco's eyes, guilty confusion flickering across his features. Draco's eyes flew open as he felt Harry hesitate, reading the expression on his face. Draco grasped Harry firmly around the shoulders, and for a moment Harry thought he was going to be thrown across the room.

"Please, don't stop."

Draco drew Harry to him so quickly that Harry barely had time to savor the velvet sensation of Draco's tongue inside his mouth before he felt his hands fumble with the buttons on his pajamas. The minute Harry's top was off, Draco turned over, switching their positions. Harry inwardly groaned with pleasure as Draco ground against him, his mouth smothering any audible sounds. Draco shivered as Harry's silky touch ran over his sides, causing goose bumps.

"Harry..."

"I love it when you say my name like that," murmured Harry, tugging off Draco's shirt.

"It's so sexy." His breath caught in his throat as Draco's kisses ran from his mouth to his stomach.

Traveling back up his torso, Draco planted one last long, lingering kiss on Harry's flushed lips before slowly pulling away. Harry's eyes fluttered open, his breathing heavy. The heat that had emanated from between them still lingered in the room, darkening Draco's hair and causing it to cling to his face, defining his slim cheekbones. They gazed affectionately at each other for a moment, at a loss for words.

"Oh. My. God. Where in the world did you learn to kiss like that?" panted Harry, a bead of sweat sliding down his face and nestling in the crevice that Draco's forearm made as it rested against Harry's cheek. Draco laid his head down on Harry's chest, and Harry could feel him breathing quickly. Wrapping his arms around Draco's waist, he heaved a contented sigh.

"Harry?" Harry shuddered as Draco's lips tickled his chest.

"Yea?"

"That was an amazing snog." Harry nodded, his last coherent thought being of Draco as he passed into the realm of sleep, his lips still burning with their kiss.

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"Do people ever use the front door around here?" Grumbled Draco as Harry slid out from under him. Harry checked the clock; it was three A.M. and someone was knocking at the window again. Buttoning up his shirt, he threw up the sash to find Ron, Hermione, and a few other members of the Order looking expectantly at him. Harry was stunned.

"Uh, Ron, Hermione, hi," he stammered, unsure of how to react.

"Hello Harry," said Ron cheerfully. "You going to let us in?"

Harry glanced over at Draco, who was still sprawled lifelessly over the bed. "In a minute, let me clean up first." He slammed the window shut, then shook Draco until he came out of his stupor.

"What the-"

"Ron and Hermione are here, along with others. Get a shirt on, quick," Harry hissed, trying to shove some of the dirty clothes under the bed and in the closet. Draco leaped from the bed and shrugged into the old sweatshirt Harry had lent him the first night he was there, which was still lying on the floor next to the trunk.

"Just stay out of the way for a sec, let me explain what's going on." Harry reopened the window where a very bewildered group was waiting, a quizzical expression on every face.

"Come on in... remember how I told you I had a guest?"

"Yea. Other than us, who would visit you on vacation?" asked Hermione, who still hadn't noticed the very uncomfortable looking Draco standing next to the closet.

Harry took a deep breath, preparing himself for their reactions. "It's a long story, and we can't retell it now; it'll take too long. We need to get somewhere a bit safer before we discuss anything. Anyways, it's Draco." Harry motioned for Draco to step forward, who was carefully averting the gaze of everyone in the room. Harry watched the expression on Hermione's face morph from shock, to confusion, to anger, back to confusion, and then to disbelief. Ron however, skipped the shock and went immediately to livid anger.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" he exploded, a look of pure disgust contorting his features.

"Ron, please, don't." Hermione seized Ron's arms, her forceful grip preventing him from attacking Malfoy. "Harry said there was a reason, he'll explain later." She threw Harry a questioning look, but he just shook his head. The members of the Order had exchanged a few glances amongst themselves, but had said nothing up til now.

"Harry, we better get going," said Tonks, emerging from the group. "We came to take you back to the Burrow, where you are supposed to stay until the start of the term. I don't know what we'll do about him-" she appraised Draco warily, "But we'll figure it out when we get there. Are you ready?"

"Not really, plus my Aunt and Uncle don't know. I know they wouldn't mind me disappearing, but Dumbledore might not be very happy if I just snuck off."

"I'll go let them know," volunteered Mad-Eye Moody, adjusting his cap so it covered his magical eye. He unlocked the door, muttering the spell quietly, then headed off toward Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's room.

Harry began gathering his things and tossing them into his trunk, not paying any attention to how jumbled it all was. The silence in the room was so oppressive that Harry was finding it hard to breathe. He was almost finished when Moody returned, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Definitely gave your Uncle a good scare just then," he said with a laugh. "He wasn't expecting a visit this late at night. Although you seem to been getting a few of those lately." He said this last part directly to Harry in a voice so low Harry almost missed it. Harry just nodded slightly, then shut his trunk with a loud clang. Rummaging through the closet, he tossed Draco his broom, then uncovered his own Firebolt.

Moody was attaching the trunk to a sling on his broom when Dudley came waddling in, his eyes beady and accusing.

"Father is going to go mad when he finds out you've gone," he smirked, not realizing that he was surrounded by wizards. He caught Draco out of the corner of his eye. "It's the vampire! See, I knew you had one! It's so pretty..." Dudley was advancing on Draco, who was rooted to the spot, eyes wide with fear, when Tonks hit Dudley with a spell that sent him flying across the room.

"Th-thank you," Draco managed to stammer. He instinctively moved towards Harry, who was glaring at Ron, who was trying to muffle his laughter. Dudley was sitting up before he realized that the entire room was staring at him, the adult members of said group pointing their wands directly at him. His mouth opened and closed, no words coming out.

"Trying to do an impression of an ugly toad?" sneered Draco, regaining a bit of confidence. He glided over to Dudley, knelt down on one knee, and let his gaze run up and down Dudley's excessive mass. "Because it really is working, I must say. By the way," he added, standing up again, "I'm a wizard, not a vampire. But no matter what I am, there is no way I would ever have any interest in you." He turned back to Harry and the others, who had followed the entire encounter without blinking. Harry was suppressing a smile, as was Ron, but the others were as unreadable as ever.

"We'd better get going," Moody grunted. "It'll be daylight soon, and we don't to be caught in mid-air at sunrise. Tonks, you first, then Hermione, Ron, Draco, Harry, and I'll bring up the rear."

They all kicked off lightly in he middle of Harry's room, hovering a few inches above the floor until it was their turn to maneuver through the window and into the cool night breeze. Harry gave Draco a reassuring smile as the other boy took off, following closely with Moody on his tail.

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Finally, freedom, thought Harry as the cool wind whipped through his hair. Looking out over Surrey, a strange calm pervaded him, and he flew the rest of the way to the Burrow without a worry in mind.


	3. Into The Menagerie

"Let me get this straight- Draco shows up at your window supposedly torn open by some spell his father threw at him, so you just let him in your room and harbored him in there until we came to get you?" Ron was staring incredulously at Harry, absently playing with a slinky. The three boys and Hermione were all sitting in a circle around Ron's room, going over what Draco had already told the Order. "What the bloody hell were you thinking?"

"I'm still in the room, Weasley. Not like it's big enough to lose anybody in here," Draco sneered. "Just because you don't want me here doesn't mean you can talk like I'm not sitting right in front of your face."

"Shut it, Malfoy. This is my house, and I can do whatever I want. Now why would you trust him?" Ron turned on Harry, the slinky dangling from one hand. "What has he ever done to make you think he's to be trusted?"

"I know this all seems crazy, Ron, but please believe me. He's telling the truth." Harry was fast becoming frustrated, especially since they had been over the story numerous times, yet the full details still weren't sinking through Ron's stubbornness. "I don't know what I can do to prove it to you. There's no proof...." Harry trailed off, holding Ron's watchful gaze.

"Actually, there is proof." Everyone turned to look at Draco, who had become exasperated. "Anyone remember that I was seriously slashed open and have only had Muggle healing, therefore leaving a wound? If Weasley and Granger want proof, it's not that hard to give it to them."

Silence hung over the room for a moment, then Hermione spoke up. "Alright, but can we please make this quick? I honestly don't want to look at Draco shirtless for too long." A blush came to her cheeks as she said this, and she ducked her head. Ron gave her a peculiar look, then turned back.

"Let's hurry up and get this over with. I agree with Hermione; I don't want you standing here half-naked." He looked very uncomfortable for a minute, then stared pointedly at

Draco, a stare that obviously said 'Be quick about it.'

"Don't want me ruining your chances with Granger, eh Weasley? Compared to you, I must seem heaven sent." Draco shrugged out of the old sweater as Ron and Hermione both turned very red and wore the same expression of horror mixed with embarrassment.

Their faces changed quickly as they saw the large gash running along Draco's torso. Hermione drew in a sharp intake of breath, and Ron dropped the slinky, flinching as he ran his gaze over the puffy skin that was slowly scarring over. Neither said a word, and Draco, who was becoming very self-conscious by being partially nude in the center of the room, finally grabbed the old sweater and stuffed into it rather quickly.

"I hope that convinces you, because that's about all the proof I can give you." Draco broke the stunned silence with an icy glare that was directed towards Ron. Ron just nodded, still wearing a shocked expression. Hermione, however, had recovered and was deep in thought. Breaking out of her reverie, she directed her questions at Harry.

"Are you positive that we can trust him?" Harry shook his head yes, looking back at his friends for the first time since Draco had undressed. He had looked the other way while Draco was presenting the evidence, not trusting himself to have enough self control to stay off Draco if he saw him shirtless.

"He can be trusted. I've spent a week with him alone in my room, and I'm not dead yet, am I?"

"Potter, you make it sound like we've been snogging since we set eyes on each other."

Draco raised an eyebrow in Harry's direction, smiling slyly. "I suggest that you choose your words more wisely, unless you want to imply that we've spent a week in each other's arms."

"That is the most disgusting thing that I have ever heard in my life, Malfoy," Ron choked out, missing the nervous pain that flashed across Harry's eyes at his words.

"Not as revolting as the thought of you and Granger." Draco's words set off a physical response from Ron, and Harry was just quick enough to jump between them before Ron slugged Malfoy. Instead, Ron's fist collided with Harry's shoulder, knocking him back into Draco. They tumbled onto the floor, limbs tangling as they fell with a large crash. Ron looked horrified for a minute, then rushed over and helped Harry stand up. Draco climbed to his feet without any assistance, a bit winded since Harry had landed directly on his stomach.

"Alright, Ron, Draco, outside right now," Harry seethed through clenched teeth, his glasses askew. The boys followed Harry into the hallway. The minute the door was shut, Harry went off on them.

"I don't care how much you hate each other, or if you two ever become friends. Whatever happens, though, you two better start getting along. Ron, whether you believe it or not, Draco's story is true, and you not believing in it isn't going to make it, or him, go away. Draco, stop acting like a prissy snob and at least try to get along with Ron and Hermione for a few days. Then we'll be back at Hogwarts and you won't have to set eyes on each other as often. If you have to, just don't talk to each other." Harry's face was turning red as he finished his rant, eyes bright with anger. Both Ron and Draco had the decency to look chagrined, and they nodded sheepishly. Harry turned on his heel and stomped back into the room, the others following quietly.

Hermione looked up as they came back in, looking from one face to another. Seeing that none of them were going to say anything, she tactfully changed the subject.

"Mrs. Weasley said dinner should be ready soon, so I suggest we go down and eat before Fred and George scarf everything." She turned and headed down the stairs. Ron jumped up immediately, close on Hermione's heels. Harry was about to follow suit when Draco caught his wrist.

"I need to talk to you real quick." Harry had a mild suspicion that Draco wanted to more than just talk, but he crossed his arms over his chest and waited. After the display Draco had just put on with Ron, Harry was feeling rather cold towards him, especially since they needed Ron on their side, not against them.

Draco sensed Harry's annoyance immediately. "I'm sorry. I was really being a bloody ass a few minutes ago, and it really wasn't necessary. Forgive me?" His tone was so sincere that Harry instantly forgave him. Nodding, he turned to leave for dinner, clasping Draco's hand tightly until just before they came into view.

Dinner was fairly unenjoyable for everyone. The Weasleys were on their guard at every moment, still wary of the generations long feud that had lasted between them and the Malfoys. Mr. And Mrs. Weasley both kept a steady stream of questions concerning classes and teachers flowing throughout the meal. Hermione participated in the idle chatter, throwing glances at Harry, who was picking at his food. Draco, uncharacteristically quiet, decided to exchange the possibility of slipping up for the opportunity to not be hexed by the time he went to sleep. The moment they were finished eating, the entire table scrambled away from the tense atmosphere in the kitchen, and in the commotion Draco disappeared.

Deciding to give Draco some time to himself, Harry followed Ron and Hermione upstairs to Hermione's room. After catching up on how each other's summers had been, they fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that exists only between friends when silence expresses more than words can. They stayed that way for a decent amount of time, until Hermione noticed that both the boys were having trouble keeping their eyes open. Shooing them out of her room, she lay down on her bed, Crookshanks curled up on her stomach, and let the wheels in her head turn.

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Once again Malfoy does something totally unexpected, but this time it's in a good way... or is it? She massaged her temples, a gesture she had repeated many times that day. _I want to believe that Harry's right, that Malfoy really has changed, but what if it's just an act? What if he's just doing this to lure Harry into some trap? If only we could read his mind..._ Hermione sat up, a startled Crookshanks hurtling off the bed and onto the desk, glowering at her. The light bulb had just gone off in her head, and all she needed to do was find the spell.

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"Where's Malfoy?" inquired Ron, yawning widely as he trudged up the stairs to their room. Harry just shrugged, continuing up the stairs until they reached the door. Peaking inside to make sure Draco wasn't in there undressing, Ron threw himself on his bed and promptly began to snore. Harry kept climbing the stairs until he reached the attic, knocking softly before he entered.

The door swung open silently, which Harry was grateful for since Draco was stretched out on the floor in the corner, sleeping. Ghosting over to Malfoy, Harry began to notice the trails tears had left on Draco's slight cheeks, reflecting a silvery white in the moonlight that streamed through the window. Harry sat down, conscientiously avoiding creaky floorboards and sharp corners, and lightly brushed away the droplets that clung to Draco's eyelashes.

__

Why do you trust him? The question turned over and over in his mind, wearing him down faster than trying to fly in the middle of a hurricane. He had no answer. He didn't know why he had had a change of heart so suddenly; why, after five years, one not-so-simple visit had turned his whole world upside down and caused his enemy to become his lover.

__

It's not just physical attraction. If that was the case, then this would have happened a good while ago, although each has been too busy hating the other to really take into consideration how attractive the other was. Harry's gaze ran the full length of Draco' body, making his heart pound sharply against his rib cage. _No, there's more to it than that. He's changed so much so quickly that it almost seems surreal. Only time will tell if Hermione and Ron will warm up to him._

Harry leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on Draco's lips, just hard enough to wake him.

Draco kissed back, only opening his eyes when Harry pulled away.

"Heya sleepyhead." Harry brushed a few stray strands of hair out of Draco's eyes. "Have a nice nap?"

"Would've been a nicer nap if you had been with me," Draco crooned, his innocent smile clashing with the desire in his eyes. He pulled himself into a sitting position, directly across from Harry. "But yes, it was a nice nap."

"If I had been here, you wouldn't have been sleeping." Harry kissed Draco, this time with more intensity than before. Draco leaned in so far that he knocked Harry over, causing him to bump into a table that had a lamp on top. Harry's eyes widened as the lamp fell in slow motion, knowing the oncoming crash would wake the entire house. He shut his eyes tightly, preparing himself for the explosion of glass, but it never came.

Draco, without moving from off of Harry, had reached out a hand and caught the lamp right above the base, just inches off the floor.

"I'm not as lousy a Seeker as people think," said Draco lightly. "I just need a faster broom before I can even catch up with you." He set the lamp down, then pushed himself off of Harry and stood up. Without Draco's body heat, Harry suddenly realized how chilly the attic could be.

Taking advantage of Draco's outstretched hand, Harry climbed to his feet and brushed himself off. "So why don't you buy one? It's not like they're so expensive that you can't afford a better one."

"Lucius said he wouldn't buy me one unless I beat you at Quidditch. Now, there's not much chance of getting one at all, is there?" A wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, but a veiled hurt smoldered in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," said Harry, squeezing Draco's hand. He didn't know what else to say, so he pulled Draco closer and let his hands encircle his waist. Draco let his head rest against Harry's chest, his hands palming Harry's shoulders.

"It's alright. For the first time in my life, I've been able to actually be me, not just some toy Lucius manipulates. It quite different, but it's much more substantial than leading a life full of lies and darkness. Plus, the dark makes me look too washed out."

Harry laughed quietly, then tore himself away from Draco. "Light or dark, you look beautiful," he said, kissing the tip of Draco's nose. "But you'll look like a dungbomb tomorrow if you don't get to sleep soon."

"Yes, mother." Draco rolled his eyes, then headed towards the door.

"You might not want to call me that, since you've been snogging me for the past week."

"Thanks for sending me to bad mental places. Now, where am I going to sleep?"

They had reached Ron's room, where the Weasleys had set up and extra bed for Harry, but not one for Draco. Ron was splayed out over his bed, limbs practically spread eagled.

"If someone wanted to rape him, he wouldn't know until it was too late," mused Draco.

"Can we please not think about that?" Harry and Draco changed into their pajamas on opposite sides of the room, purposely not looking at one another.

"I guess you're sleeping with me tonight," Harry stated nonchalantly.

"Again? What a treat." Draco threw Harry a sly smile, then climbed into bed. "It's gonna be hard not to do anything."

"So let's not try anything thing in the first place." Harry's expression was measured, purposely hiding his emotions. "No offense, but I am not going to snog you in the middle of Ron's bedroom."

"He probably wouldn't mind the show."

"Aren't you an exhibitionist," murmured Harry, setting his glasses on the bedside table and climbing in next to Draco. "Oh, you're warm."

"And you're feet are freezing. Get 'em off." Draco looked puzzled. "I thought you weren't going to snog me here."

"I said I wasn't going to snog you; I never said I wasn't going to touch you." Harry's hands traveled over Draco's exposed neck, making both of them shiver. Snuggling close, they slept peacefully, with dreams of only happiness and each other.

****

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Harry's eyes were closed, but he could sense the pulsing of Draco's heart against his own, his mouth smothered in their drunken kiss. He could feel Draco's tongue playfully teasing his, probing deep into his mouth. A delicious burning feeling covered his skin where it met Draco's.

"Harry . . ." The whisper came from right next to his ear, and the warm breath on his neck made hairs stand on end. Harry gasped, feeling Draco move so that they were perfectly aligned, still swallowing all of Harry's words in their breathtaking kiss. Harry was lost for a moment, floating in a realm somewhere between ecstasy and disbelief, unable to accept the fact that Draco was making him feel the most wonderful sensation he had ever felt in his life.

He didn't have to wait long to be found, because just then Crookshanks leapt onto Draco, who immediately rolled over, knocking Harry off the bed.

"You just can't seem to stay in bed very long, can you? Very low endurance you have there." Draco gave Harry a taunting look, himself looking very fetching with slightly mussed hair.

"Urgh. You interrupted my dream." Harry climbed back into bed and under the covers, facing the other boy. "And for once, it was a good dream," he added lowly, so only Draco could hear. "You would have liked for me to finish that one."

"Did it include you, me, a bed, and some handcuffs?" Draco's eyes sparkled, an impish grin revealing pearly whites. "'Cause we can always arrange that one."

"Everything but the handcuffs. And no, we won't be arranging that one any time soon. I am not sleeping with you, especially not in the Weasley's house." Harry pulled the covers tight around his neck, as if to guard against anything Draco would try.

"Ah, one of those no-sex-before-marriage types. Bugger." Draco slid out of the bed, disentangling himself from the sheets. "Oh, Harry, it must have been a really good dream. You were moaning in your sleep." Draco snickered as Harry curled into a fetal position and pulled the sheets over his head. "Oh, c'mon, let's go get some breakfast. Ron's still snoring away. At least he doesn't look like he's offering himself to somebody anymore."

Stumbling out from under the comforter, a miserable-looking Harry snatched his glasses and trekked downstairs and out onto the porch. He was able to catch a watery glimpse of the sunrise as he yawned, stretching his arms far above his head. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Draco do the same, then sit down in a rocking chair. Harry dragged another chair over next to Draco's, and neither said a word, still waking up.

Finally, when their silent interlude was stretched to a breaking point, Harry let out a yawn and made to go into the house. After barely picking at his dinner last night, he was famished, and he hoped that the Weasley's kitchen would be well stocked. Obviously Draco had the same thing on his mind as he followed Harry without hesitation.

They had been out there longer than they thought, for when they came in the entire Weasley family and Hermione were seated around the table. Sitting down, there was a general mutter of good morning, then they all commenced eating. Harry and Draco grabbed plates and set about stuffing their faces for the next few minutes. All that was heard in the time following was the clink and clatter of plates and silverware, and an occasional sound made in Mrs. Weasley's direction that usually sounded like "Good food, Mum."

When they had all finished and cleaned up, Mr. Weasley briefed them on what was going to happen in Diagon Alley.

"Nobody will be going anywhere alone today," he started. "Especially you two," he complemented, turning to Harry and Draco. "No matter what, you must have someone with you all times."

"Back to the Buddy System, just like kindergartners," Draco whispered to Ron, who was standing right next to him. Ron rolled his eyes and nodded, then jerked. Had he just agreed with Malfoy?

"-stop by Gringotts first, then we'll give each if you the exact amount you will need for book and robes, and we will set you loose. Do not spend any extra money on frivolous things, and try not to get into any trouble." He looked from Ron to Draco during this last part, and it seemed to Harry as if Mr. Weasley had dreamt all night of Ron and Draco hexing each other in the middle of Ollivanders. "Alright, then, Ginny, do you have the Floo Powder?"

Ginny grabbed the pot and passed it around. One by one, they all disappeared in a whirlwind of neon green flames, and appeared in the fireplace of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, the same ice cream parlor where Ron and Hermione had met Harry in their third year. Harry was relieved to come out here instead of the middle of Knockturn Alley. He stepped out of the fireplace and stood over by Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, waiting for the rest of the crew to come through.

The moment Draco appeared in the fireplace, the entire parlor hushed. Indifferent to the wondering stares, he strode over and stood next to Harry, eliciting a few gasps from various customers. Each waiter and waitress had reflexively reached for his or her wand, ready to jump between the two boys.

"Did I sprout a shrieking Mandrake from my head that only I can't hear?" Draco' voice was grim. "I knew I wasn't popular, but sheesh." He glanced over his shoulder, and the parlor turned back to it's ice cream, grumbling quietly about the lack of hostility between Draco and the others. "Now I know what it feels like to be the famous Harry Potter."

"Just ignore them. They'll forget about it as soon as something interesting comes along." Hermione looked Draco square in the face, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "It comes with being around Harry- you get caught in the fringes of the spotlight, if not center stage." Her face brightened as Draco grinned, and she grinned back.

Harry stole a glance at Ron, who's face was beginning to turn a light pink. "Let's go outside. It's getting a little chilly in here." He pushed Ron in front of him so that Ron was walking next to Hermione, and winked at Draco, who smiled back. _Maybe getting them to get along isn't going to be as hard as I thought_, Harry ruminated as the warm London sun washed over him.

It took a few minutes for Mr. And Mrs. Weasley to get through, especially with many people arriving for last minute shopping needs. Heading over to Gringotts, it suddenly occurred to Harry that Draco had no way of accessing his vault without his dad knowing. He dropped back to where Draco was walking behind the Weasleys and grabbed talked with him quietly.

"How are you going to get any of your school supplies? Won't your dad know if you take something out of the vault?"

"Yea. That's why I'm not taking anything." Draco's tone was measured, his gaze almost empty. "I just won't get anything."

"But we need new books... and you need new robes." Harry had noticed that Draco's robes were getting extremely short on him, and he could see his socks. "You can just use some of the money from my vault. It's not like I'm going to go broke or anything."

"Look, Potter, I don't need charity. I'll survive," Draco hissed, his old stubbornness breaking through. "It's not like they'll expel me; I'll just have to owl out for books on the first day of school, and then they can charge Lucius."

Harry, a bit taken aback from being called by his last name, was beginning to lose his temper. "I know you don't like having to admit that you need help, _Draco_, but you can either accept this as a gift, or you can have everyone a little more suspicious than need be. It has to be hard for Mr. Independent to finally have to lean on somebody over something as simple as robes and books, but don't let your pride get in the way of not getting killed."

Harry's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as he realized what he had just said, then he immediately turned red. "Sorry. I didn't mean that last part about getting us killed. That was over the top."

"No, you meant it, and your right." Draco's eyes has softened from steel gray to a dark smoke, humbling him somewhat. "I'm being stupid. And I can pay you back later, don't worry."

"Oh, you'll pay me back alright. Just not in galleons, sickles, and knuts." Draco raised an eyebrow when Harry said this, then laughed.

"Oh, what people do for love."

"You mean, what people do for hormones."

"Same thing."

The rest of the visit went smoothly. Draco was amicable towards everyone, including the bewildered shop owners and patrons that gazed fixedly at him when he passed, chatting animatedly with the Weasleys. Although they weren't friends yet, Harry could tell that Draco's charming, open demeanor melted the sharpness of Ron's hostility, and the rest of the family was beginning to warm up. Hermione even apologized for slogging him in their third year, but Draco protested that it was the least he had deserved.

Hermione and Ginny went with Mr. And Mrs. Weasley to the ice cream parlor after purchasing all their books, but the three boys desperately needed new robes. While waiting for Draco to get finished measuring, Ron and Harry had the first chance to talk alone since they'd seen each other.

"Sorry for being such an insufferable git," Ron apologized, looking ashamed. "I know it couldn't have been easy for you to be pulled in two directions, but finding Malfoy in your room definitely wasn't the kind of welcome I'd anticipated."

"Ron, you sound like you walked in on us!" Harry laughed, but sobered quickly. "I shouldn't have expected you to be so welcoming to him all of a sudden. After learning what he was really like, I'd forgotten how horrible he used to be to us. Sorry."

"Aw, how cute. Now are you two going to kiss and make up?" Draco had finished while they were talking, and now strode over to them. "Your turn, Harry," he said, gesturing toward the back room. "Have fun- she's in a touchy-feely mood today." His smile widened as he watched Harry skulk into the back room, the other boy's expression one of horror.

"You just had to do that, didn't you?" Ron's voice was stern, although a twitch at the corner of his mouth gave away his amusement. "Can't you ever leave him alone?"

"Lighten up, Weasley, it's just a joke. Besides, don't you want to see Harry as the victim of a joke just this once?"

"How hurt will you be if I give the honest answer, which is, No - I'd rather French-kiss a skunk?"

"Okay, okay, I see- the whole loyal-to-the-death friend thing going. Gotcha. Ron," Draco continued after a pause, "I, erm, well, thank you." Ron's jaw dropped slightly as he heard Draco use his first name, then thank him.

"For what?" he asked stupidly.

"For letting me in your house, for not killing me in my sleep, for letting me borrow your underwear- just kidding on the last one." He smiled broadly as Ron choked and glared at him with open maliciousness. "Seriously, though, thanks."

"Whatever spell your father hit you with, it messed with your head. An stop grinning like that- you're going to hurt yourself. You haven't smiled this much in your life, and tomorrow morning you won't be able to move your mouth."

"Oh, if my mouth is sore, it's not going to be because of smiling."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." Draco laughed, but let the grin slide from his face. "Moving on- what's going on between you and Hermione? Any action yet?"

Ron was gurgling something that was halfway between a yelp and a "None of your business' when Harry came out, looking pointedly at Draco.

"She was not touchy-feely, you little wretch. Your turn, Ron." Ron looked rather odd, Harry noticed, and the moment Ron was out of earshot, Harry began interrogating Draco.

"What did you say to him? Why did he look like he just ate slugs? You didn't use that spell on him did-"

"Relax, Harry. I just asked him if there was anything going on between him and Hermione, and he immediately became defensive and uncomfortable, so the answer is yes. Be careful before you enter your dorm room these days- don't want to walk in on them and hear something that would harm your virgin ears."

"Oh yes, because I've never had ear sex." Harry burst out laughing at Draco' incredulous expression. "Sorry, couldn't help myself. But do you seriously think they've done anything together?"

"Judging by the way they react whenever one of us, okay I," he corrected himself at Harry's raised eyebrow, "whenever _I_ mention them together, they get flustered and blush in unison. So I believe that it is fairly obvious that Ron and Hermione have something going on. And I don't blame Hermione; Ron has turned out to be rather fetching."

"Should I start all the over-anxious worrying about you being unfaithful, or can we just establish the 'look and not touch' rule?"

"To Hell with ground rules." Draco flirtatiously tilted his head so he had to look up to see Harry, making his eyes slightly darker. Harry felt his heart skip a beat as Draco did this, as had to resist the urge to kiss him fiercely right then. "They take all the fun out of the really intense moments."

"If I didn't know better, I'd swear Malfoy was just hitting on you Harry." Ron's face was still tinged a light pink as he emerged from the dressing rooms, new robes in hand. "All set to go?"

Meeting up with the rest of the group at the ice cream parlor, it was unanimously decided to buy sundaes for lunch. Miraculously, Ron suppressed the urge to levitate Draco's sundae into his lap. Ginny kept sneaking furtive glances at Draco, and Harry was having a hard time not choking when he caught Ginny doing this.

"Mum, can we please stay a while longer?" Ginny pleaded after their meal. "I promise I won't ask for anything, I just want to window shop." Mrs. Weasley glanced at Arthur, who nodded in approval, and they split up: Mr. And Mrs. Weasley went off to look for de-gnoming spray and the children dashed to the broom store, admiring the many novelties and accessories. Mesmerized by _1001 New Moves That Will Improve Your Quidditch Game_, recently published by the Bulgarian Quidditch team, Harry and Draco were thoroughly surprised when Cho Chang walked in and made a beeline for Harry.

"Why, Hallo Harry," she said timidly, her freckles standing out against her newly tanned skin. "How was your holiday?" She flashed a bright smile at him, batting her eyelashes.

"Um, alright, I guess." Harry was looking very out of place, squirming under Cho's gaze.

"Er, you've met Draco before, right?" Harry edged a bit to his right, just enough so Cho could see Draco glance up and wave before returning to tip #791: The Perfect Posture.

Cho's face fell suddenly. Trying to conceal her surprise, she nodded curtly, then stepped back.

"Yes, we've met. Oh, I must be going. See you September first, then." Cho threw one last leery glance at Draco before turning on her heel and marching quickly out.

"Did I say something?" Harry looked very confused, his hair sticking out in all directions.

"No, Harry. I just exist." Draco slammed the book shut and tossed it back onto the display. "Mind if I get some fresh air? It's stuffy in here." Without waiting for an answer, Draco marched outside. Through the window, Harry could see Draco leaning against the ancient brick building, watching the crowds blunder by. _And just when things were starting to look up_, Harry thought to himself.

"Ron, Hermione, I'll be outside with Draco. If we don't come back in five minutes, we'll meet you back at the parlor in an hour." With that, maneuvered his way through the crowded shop, and went over to stand by Draco.

****

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"What's wrong with him?" Ron's eyes followed Harry with a look of dismay. "One minute, their at each other's throats, and the next, this!" He motioned towards the two boys outside, almost sending a tower of quaffles careening of the counter.

Hermione smiled deviously. "You're jealous."

"Am not."

"Are too. Don't worry, it's not like they're best friends. You know Harry- befriend the friendless, play the hero."

"But why Malfoy?" Ron frowned. "He's just such a stuck-up prat. And he's evil."

"Maybe he's not as bad as we think."

"Oh really. Then explain the past five years!"

Hermione sighed. "You have a point. What are we going to do with him?"

"He'd make a nice throw rug," Ron suggested with great seriousness.

"Ron!" Hermione's eyes widened in horror, her mouth slack.

"And just think, whenever he gets dirty we could just take him out and beat him." A smile pulled the corner's of his mouth into a broad grin. "And I wouldn't mind placing a coffee table with sharp, pointy legs right in the center."

"I must admit, at times, that's an amusing thought. But just try, for Harry's sake. You know how he hates it when his friends wage war on each other."

"Oh, all right," Ron conceded. "But if he was a rug, would he be black or green?"

****

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"What is wrong with you?" Harry stood directly in front of Draco, arms crossed, a scowl pulling his mouth into a frown. "Your having mood swings- are you PMSing?"

Draco glared at Harry, his eyes colored steel. "I am perfectly fine," he said in a tone as cold as ice. "It's the rest of the world that seems to have a problem with me." He turned and made to head off towards the ice cream parlor, but Harry blocked him.

"Draco," Harry's tone made Draco stop and look up. "I know it's hard, I've gone through it. Just ignore them. What does their opinion mean as long as your friends know who you really are?"

"That's the problem: my friends don't know who I am."

"So why don't you tell us?" Harry stepped so close that the distance between could have

been measured with a hand, but the air was filled with a challenging tension instead of heated passion. Darkened green reflected in frozen steel as the old rivalry arose, the battle of wills that constantly clashed. "We can never find out who you really are unless we have a little help from you." They held the other's gaze for what seemed like an eternity, but finally Draco broke and lowered his head. When he looked back at Harry, however, his face was full of fear.

"Lucius." Eyes widening, Draco jerked his head ever so slightly to the right. Harry made to turn, but Draco caught him. "No, don't. He'll be looking for me, and he can't resist the chance to torment you or the Weasleys. Don't call attention to us, just act like you normally would if you were talking to a friend."

"Draco, you're not exactly the most inconspicuous face in the crowd." Harry's posture was relaxed, but his eyes had taken on the same look as they did during a Quidditch match- he needed to find a solution, and find it fast.

"The moment he's out of sight, we'll head over to the Magical Menagerie." Harry had no idea where his plan was going, but it seemed like one place Lucius wouldn't go.

"What are we going to do, buy a rat and stick it down his pants?" Draco had a skeptical look. "That would be funny, but very ineffective."

"Just do what I say. Is it safe?"

"Yea."

"Okay, just walk over there, together, as if nothing was going on."

Side-by-side they crossed the street, narrowly avoiding an old woman with several large bundles, a gaggle of schoolgirls who pointed and whispered as they passed, and a small house elf who was following a pompous looking lady who was shouting orders at him.

"Ok, so what do we do now?" They had reached the front door, and Draco hesitated.

"Are you sure this is the best plan."

"Do you have any ideas?" Harry was fast becoming exasperated and wanted to get out of public view.

"Right, into the menagerie." Draco stepped across the threshold and felt a tugging, as if a hook had been placed right behind his navel. He tried to turn his head to look at Harry, but found he couldn't as he was hurtling through a vortex of swirling color. He could feel Harry next to him, banging into his shoulder as they flew through space.

After what felt like an eternity, Draco's feet were slammed into the ground, and he tumbled forward onto his hands and knees, gasping for breath. Draco crawled over to where Harry was lying on his back, breathing shallowly, and collapsed next to him.

"What happened?" Draco choked out, his lungs still feeling like they'd been compressed.

"Portkey," Harry wheezed. Harry's eyes widened as a shadow fell over them, making them both shiver. Looking up, Draco froze, immobile.

"Hello Mr. Malfoy. Have a nice holiday?"

****

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References:

"How hurt will you be if I give the honest answer, which is, No - I'd rather French-kiss a

skunk?" -Blackadder

"What are we going to do with him?"

"He'd make a nice throw rug," Ron suggested with great seriousness.

"Ron!" Hermione's eyes widened in horror, her mouth slack.

"And just think, whenever he gets dirty we could just take him out and beat him."

- a variation of the conversation between Mufasa and Zazu in The Lion King about Scar


	4. The Portholes

****

I've decided that since I'm posting a lot of chapters in a short time, the review answers will come in chapter ten, since it'll only be a few days til I post that. Thanks for rreading and reviewing, and keep an eye out for updates!

Disclaimer: Eh, dat's not mine.

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"Hello Mr. Malfoy. Have a nice holiday?"

Draco hurried to his feet, straightening out his robes and brushing the dirt from the floor off him. Even after being dumped onto the floor, he was able to look immaculate as always.

"I was, Professor Dumbledore."

Harry had pushed himself to his feet and was now standing behind Draco, his face lit up with a smile.

"And I hope the same has gone for you, Mr. Potter?"

"Not quite, for more than one reason. But I'm guessing you know about all that already?"

"Of course. Mrs. Figg has informed me about the majority of incidents, but you still need to fill in a few gaps. But let's leave that for later. Come, we have other matters that are more pressing as of the moment."

"Who's Mrs. Figg?" Draco asked as they followed Dumbledore out of the room and down an old, ornate hallway filled with ancient paintings of witches and wizards in medieval dress robes. Harry just shook his head and mouthed 'Tell you later.'

They followed twisting and turning corridors, all lined with old, expensive looking portraits and thick carpet in a red so dark it almost looked like blood. Both the boys' eyes were wide with admiration: Harry's because he had never seen so many elegant and auld artifacts, and Draco's because he had never seen so many rich things put together to be comfortable. The Malfoy Manor was full of old paintings and objects, but they were cold and menacing, and could never have brought warmth and contentment as this mansion did.

Finally, they arrived in a large circular room, also lined with paintings. They were of all different types of worlds and universes, ranging from aliens to cavemen to creatures Harry had no name for. He noticed that the frames were glowing with a pure white light, pulsing steadily. Some were stronger than others, causing Harry to squint as he looked. Others we so dull they looked like normal frames.

"The Portholes," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Each one leads to a different world, with a Porthole on the other side that leads to this room. Destroy the painting, or Porthole, and you can never return to the world it led to. The ones that glow brightly are more friendly than the ones that are dim. Why, hello Minerva." Professor McGonagall had just entered the room by a door directly across from the one Harry and Draco had entered through.

Dumbledore turned and clasped her hand, his bright eyes twinkling. "One more and we should be set."

As he spoke, Professor Snape Apparated right next to them, making Harry jump. Snape suppressed a nasty grin, but his dark eyes bore into Harry with spiteful amusement. He greeted Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall cordially, and Dumbledore ushered them to five rather overstuffed armchairs in the center of the room, arranged in a circle around a large oak coffee table.

Once they had all taken their seats, Dumbledore cleared his throat and began.

"Harry, don't worry about the Weasleys; we let them know that you and Draco would be meeting with us today, and they have been told to go back to the Burrow. We will take you back there when we are through.

"Yes, it was us that bewitched the threshold to be a Portkey. Lucky for us, Professor Snape put a spell on it so that it would only work when you two stepped on it, otherwise we would have had a few too many visitors this afternoon." Dumbledore paused and smiled at his own joke, then continued.

"Both of you have been watched all summer by members of the Order. Harry, for obvious reasons, and Draco, because we suspected that this summer your father would try to force you into the Dark Lord's service. We knew about Draco's arrival at 4 Privet Drive, and since then we've been looking for a way to protect both of you this school year."

Dumbledore leaned forward, fingers steepled. His blue eyes glanced back and forth from Harry to Draco, scanning their faces. "The rest of this conversation is not to be repeated, not even to Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger. Do you both understand?" Harry and Draco nodded gravely, a knot forming in both their stomachs. Draco was sitting on the edge of his seat, as was Harry, and they hung on to Dumbledore's every word.

"As we found out in your fourth year, there are ways to get into the castle besides the normal entrances. With the number of people who pose a threat to you right now, we are taking extra precautions to have you under watch at night. We could not set teachers or guards around your dorms; that would cause too much suspicion. Instead, there will be two Portholes made that enter this room. One will be hung above your bed, Harry, and the other over yours, Draco. The edges will be charmed to look like a normal frame, so no one is suspicious. Each night, you will go through your routine, as if nothing were happening. You will get into bed, close the curtains, and climb through the Porthole. You will both be given rooms here, and there will be someone here at all times of the day or night. In the mornings you will be woken early and will return to your dorms at Hogwarts before any of the other students wake. There will be charms put on both your beds so that anyone who goes near them when you are gone will promptly feel extremely tired and return to their own bed."

Dumbledore stopped again and sat back in his chair. "This is being done for your protection. These Portholes are not to be used without caution. Do not use them to enter each others' dorms or cause mayhem. If anyone besides us," he motioned to himself, Snape, and McGonagall, "ever asks about them, you would be wise to act ignorant and protest that you have never heard of them. Both of you are in more danger than you realize."

"Professor," Harry interjected. "What about Voldemort being able to 'see' through me? Wouldn't that just make this whole plan worthless?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, it would, Harry. That is why both you and Draco will be taking Occlumency lessons from Professor Snape as the school year begins. This time, though, you will see your lessons through."

Harry felt the bottom fall out of his stomach. After the last year, the last thing he wanted to do was see Snape outside of class more often than needed. Fortunately, Draco stepped in before Harry could say anything.

"When and where?" he asked. "It can't interfere with Quidditch."

"Quidditch practices will be based on your schedules from now on," said Professor McGonagall, a smile lighting up her face. "You two have been made Quidditch captains."

Harry felt the bottom of his stomach fall out again, this time because of disbelief. He looked at Draco, who was wearing a broad grin, and back to Professor McGonagall.

__

Quidditch Captain, he thought. _Definitely not a bad start to the year_.

"The lessons will be Wednesday nights after supper for you, Mr. Potter, and Thursdays at the same time for Mr. Malfoy." Snapes cold drawl punctured Harry's visions of flying around the pitch chasing after the Snitch. "They shouldn't take too long, if you concentrate on the task at hand." Snape threw a vehement glare at Harry before he went on. "And if anyone asks why you are taking extra lessons from me..."

"We answer that we're reviewing Remedial Potions," finished Harry.

"Exactly."

"What!" Draco stood up, disbelief written across his face. "Remedial Potions? I'm not that bad, am I?"

"Mr. Malfoy, you may answer with 'Advanced' instead of 'Remedial'," cut in Snape.

Draco sat down, obviously elated that he was considered intelligent enough for Advanced Potions..

"Now, you two, go along back to the Burrow. And remember, not a word about the Portholes to anyone." Dumbledore rose, smoothing out his robes. "We've made another Portkey that will take you into Ron's bedroom. After you use it, it will no longer be a Portkey." He drew a birthday cake candle out of one pocket and layed it on the table. "On the count of three... one... two... three!"

Harry and Draco each touched opposite ends of the candle at the same time, and both felt the now familiar jerk behind their navels. A moment later, Harry was welcomed with a blinding flash of orange as he crashed onto Ron's bed, where Ron was reading Standard Book of Spells Grade 5, and Draco landed on top of him. After a good amount of colorful language, the boys managed to untangle themselves. Ron put the spell book, which now had a few bent pages, on the desk and sat back own on the bed.

"What happened with you two?" Ron was looking at them curiously. "You never showed up, and then Dumbledore owled us saying that you were fine and not to worry."

"Dumbledore just wanted to tell us we're the new Quidditch captains," said Harry lightly. He grinned when he saw Ron's jaw fall open, slack, and the next thing he knew Ron had enveloped him in an enormous hug.

"Ouch, Ron, your pressing my glasses into my nose," Harry managed, his arms pinned to his sides. Ron released him, still ecstatic.

"That's awesome! You, Quidditch captain! We always knew you'd make it, but out of the blue! Oh, right, congratulations Malfoy." Ron smiled at Draco; nothing could bring him down right now. "That's all they said? You guys were gone for a good time."

"Oh, yes," said Draco, his face clouding over. "We have to take Occlumency lessons with Snape. Eurgh."

"I'm going to go bang my head against a wall now. Don't mind me." Harry turned towards the wall but Draco reached out a hand and stopped him.

"You can't afford to lose anymore brain cells as of the moment." Eyes filled with merriment, Draco pulled Harry back to the middle of the room. "Besides, large bumps in the middle of your forehead are not going to do much for your appearance, which is already faltering."

"Thanks for the encouragement." Harry rolled his eyes with a lack of seriousness.

"More Occlumency lessons?" interjected Ron. "Why do both of you have to take them? Oh right, the whole evil father thing. Sorry." Ron ducked his head, focusing intently on the door. "Anyways, Mum wanted you two to get something to eat when you got back. Hungry?"

"Famished," replied Harry.

"Very," supplemented Draco.

Ron led the way down the stairs, walking much slower than Harry would have liked him to.

"Nerve impulses not reaching your body, Weasley? A snail could have reached the bottom by now." Draco made to push past Ron, but Ron threw out an arm and held him back, giving him a knowing look. Draco merely raised an eyebrow and fell back with Harry, who was becoming more confused by the moment.

Their confusion was alleviated as they stepped into the kitchen and were greeted by a loud chorus of "Happy Birthday." Harry's jaw went slack for the third time that day, July 31st, his sixteenth birthday, which he had forgotten all about.

"Happy birthday Harry!" cried George, slapping Harry on the back.

"Surprised you, didn't we?" said Fred, smiling devilishly and pointing to a large pile of gifts on the table. "Those would be for you."

Harry's eyes went as wide as plates as he looked around the Weasley's small kitchen. Red and gold and silver decorations were hanging from the ceiling, reflecting the light thrown on them by the candles Mrs. Weasley had enchanted to float right above their heads. On the table next to the gifts (which were wrapped in such bright colors they almost hurt the eyes) was a large cake with orange frosting, aglow with sixteen large, dripping candles. Written on top was "Happy Birthday Harry" in scrolling letters, and little figures on broomsticks raced across, narrowly avoiding each other as they pulled miniature Wronski Feints. Looking closer, Harry realized that the "I" in "Birthday" wasn't dotted with frosting, but was a minuscule snitch that would flit around for a few seconds before returning to its place, then take off again. One of the little players was continually going after it, but only caught it once in awhile.

"Do you like it?" Hermione had squeezed her way through the crowd and was standing on Harry's right. "We got it from a magical confectionary down in Diagon Alley."

"Chudley Cannons' colors, too," said Ron on Harry's right as he pointed out that the little figures actually resembled the real players. "That one's the seeker."

"It's amazing," approved Harry, breathless. "It's... wow."

"Great use of vocabulary." Draco came up behind Harry and peered over his shoulder. "Although, that cake would make anybody speechless. Especially if it was their first birthday party."

"Your first birthday party, dear?" Mrs. Weasley looked shocked. "You never had one at the Dursleys?"

"Mum, don't be dense," Ginny sighed. "They're Muggles, remember?"

"Alright, alright, time for Harry to make a wish and blow the candles out before we eat wax instead of cake." Mr. Weasley dimmed the overhead candles with a wave of his wand, and everyone looked expectantly at Harry, the sixteen candles reflected two fold in the lenses of his old-fashioned glasses.

Harry glanced from person to person. Fred and George were shifting impatiently, obviously starving for cake. Ginny kept stealing quick glances at Draco, while next to her Hermione tucked a stray strand of hair behind her right ear. Ron was watching the Quidditch players race across the cake, and shook his head slightly as his eyes crossed. Mr. Weasley stood behind Mrs. Weasley, his hands on her shoulders as she leaned back into him.

Then there was Draco, who had moved to stand in-between Ron and the twins. His hair reflected the red, gold, and silver hues thrown from the garlands, and his pale eyes had lightened to the gray of the sky after a storm. He looked back at Harry, a genuine smile on his face. Harry's heart skipped a few beats, then a few more, before he forced himself to turn his gaze away.

Harry stood still, trying to absorb he scene before him, the pure happiness and warmth, to take it all in before the moment could slip away. Taking a deep breath, he wished that this moment would never leave him, and blew out the candles in one breath.

The sudden darkness jolted everyone back to life, and a din arose as people clamored for cake. After receiving his piece, Harry went outside on the porch and sat in the same rocking chair he had sat in that morning, staring at the same horizon, but seeing something completely different. A bright full moon shone out over the landscape, illuminating trees and bathing the yard in silver. Harry felt that he was in a dream world, the scene was so surreal.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Draco leaned against the house next to Harry's chair, his cake in hand. "Nighttime is always classified as the time of evil and horror, when the light fades and darkness takes over. The beauty of it is overlooked, the appeal of being able to hide in the shadows, the mystery of never knowing what's before you, the enigmatic atmosphere that transcends time and makes it stretch into nothing." He looked at Harry, who was staring at him. "What, do I have frosting on my nose?"

"No, that was just really profound. And random." Harry had a satisfied but startled look on his face. "Where did that come from?"

Draco shrugged. "Just my opinion. What're you thinking right now?"

Harry's mouth was open with a coy comment on the tip of his tongue, but just then Ron and Hermione came outside and sat in the chairs around Harry.

"Pumpkin frosting," Ron garbled through a mouthful of cake. Hermione made a face and looked like she was going to criticize Ron's manners, but was to busy eating her own cake.

"So what did Dumbledore want?" Hermione asked, wiping her mouth daintily.

"Draco and I have been made Quidditch captains," Harry said as Hermione squealed happily. "And we have to take Occlumency lessons, both of us."

"That's not a bad idea, especially with the recent turn of events." All three boys gaped at her, but she pretended not to notice. "Plus, if you can empty your mind to sleep, maybe you can empty your mind of other things and get your homework done faster."

"She has a one track mind, doesn't she?" asked Draco, pointing his fork in Hermione's direction.

"You're not one to talk. You're second in the class, you know," Hermione retorted.

"What?!" Ron exclaimed, almost knocking his cake off his lap. "I am not hearing this..."

"Then you must have slugs in your ears, Weasley."

"Don't you dare bring up slugs-"

"Oh right... so do you like escargots?"

"Malfoy, I am going to hurt you."

"Really?"

"WILL YOU TWO STOP!" Ron and Draco looked at Harry and Hermione, who had said this in unison.

"You're like bickering two year olds." Hermione had her hands on her hips. "Honestly, I'd think you two could be slightly more mature than this by now."

"Sorry you overestimated us." Draco sent a smirk in her direction before catching the glare of annoyance from Harry. "Oh, bloody. Fine, I'll stop. But yes, Weasley, I am second in the class. That does not mean I don't have a life."

"Did we hear shouting?" Fred and George came out and dragged a couple of mismatched stools over. "Are you all trying to give Harry gray hairs before he turns seventeen?"

"No, but you'll start giving mum gray hairs if you don't stop using Percy as a guinea pig for your Wizard Wheezes." To Hermione's satisfaction, Ron chewed his next bite and swallowed it before talking. "You know she's touchy enough when it comes to him these days."

"How are things with Percy?" Harry inquired. "Any better than the end of last year?"

"A bit. He's still a complete sod, but at least he apologized and has started sending owls to mum again." Fred Accioed six Butterbeers and passed them out. Harry thought he heard a weak "Don't get drunk" from inside, but couldn't be sure.

"He's still working for the Ministry, but he says that rumors are flying about Fudge resigning. Percy's at his wits' end about it; he's afraid that if there's a new Minister, he'll get booted to some other department because he supported Fudge and called Dumbledore a fool. Serves him right." George looked as if he wanted to go on, but took a swig of Butterbeer and promptly began choking on it. "If Fudge does get replaced," he said after he'd recovered, "I hope it's Dumbledore. We'd have less trouble from You- Know-Who if Dumbledore was in charge of things."

"We're going to need more than Dumbledore to keep Voldemort suppressed, with the rise of the Dementors, Death Eaters, and all of his other supporters." Everyone swivelled around to face Draco, who had been so quiet he had been forgotten about.

"What other supporters?" Ron asked.

"The giants, the werewolves, the vampires, all the other Dark creatures. Has anyone other than me- and Hermione- ever read Hogwarts, A History?"

"You've read Hogwarts, A History?" It was Ron's jaw's turn to go slack. "I thought only brainiacs like Hermione did that."

"Second in the class, Weasley."

"Right. And what does the history of an old stone castle have to do with Dark creatures and You-Know-Who?"

"Hogwarts was built in Europe for a reason, Ron." Hermione took over with a nod from Draco. "Since the beginning of the Christian era, many people have persecuted those with the gift of magic. Around 1073, a Seer made a prediction that during what we now call the Dark Ages, there would be a mass genocide of witches and wizards."

"But flame freezing spells-"

"It wasn't burning." Draco took a step forward. "And it wasn't genocide in the sense of the word today. The Founders of Hogwarts didn't just build the school to educate children. They built it as a refuge for the magical population of Europe, which was in danger of their own kind.

"Salazar Slytherin made sure before he died that he would have ways of communicating with those who had his blood running in their veins. In exchange for the opportunity to talk to the living, he sold his soul to demons, his consequence being to eternally live in Purgatory with no way of escaping to go on to the Land of the Dead."

"Got jipped if you ask me," said George.

"During the Dark Ages, Salazar was able to persuade one of his heirs to establish a constant connection with him. The heir, whose name has been erased from history- and is not my relative because I can trace my family tree farther back than this time, Weasley, so don't give me that look- tricked the wizarding world into electing him into power, much as Hitler did to the Germans during the Holocaust."

"Instead of a slow deception, though, he had Slytherin's evil supporters round up all the Muggle-born's in Europe that weren't being hidden in Hogwarts one night and bring them to England, where they sorted them into hundreds of groups. People with certain qualities were grouped together, of mixed gender, and for a reason." Hermione paused, and took a deep breath before going on. "The Heir permanently transformed them all into different Dark races: vampires, veela, werewolves, Dementors, giants, so on and so forth. The next part of the plan was to attack Hogwarts, where the rest of the Muggle-borns were being harbored. It almost happened, but the night before the attack, the Heir tried to raise Slytherin from the dead. The demons that had made a deal with Slytherin broke his communication, and supposedly the demons took care of him. Without Salazar, the Heir couldn't control the new races, and he had the armies slaughter the majority of them. A lot escaped, and the bloodlines aren't pure anymore, but although they aren't enough to do much damage on their own, together under the power of Voldemort they could pose a great threat."

Everyone was silent for a moment, stunned.

"But what about the good Dark creatures?" Fred looked puzzled. "Lupin's a Dark creature, as you call it, but he's perfectly fine. Hagrid's safe, too, but he's only part Giant."

"It doesn't matter," explained Hermione patiently. "As long as Voldemort says the right spells and incantations, all the creatures will be called to him, the great Summons. There's no real way to escape the Summons, unless they're in a cage or cell of some sort that they can't escape."

"Why don't they ever tell us about this in History of Magic?" Harry asked. "It would do us some good to learn about something useful."

"But it would scare most witches and wizards out of their wits," Ron supplemented. "If some evil nutcase wanted to create a new Dark species, they could just think back to ol' Professor Binns. 'Oh yes!'" he imitated in a high squeaky voice, "'Now all I have to do is find my fifth year text from Hogwarts and we'll be set!'"

"Basically, yes, that's it." Draco strode over and leaned against the back of Harry's chair. "That's why they put it in Hogwarts, A History. It is an important part of the school's historical background, but they'd rather not everyone know."

"Hey Malfoy," said George, one of his famous looks on his face that meant the next question could lead to trouble. "Have you ever found a skeleton or a body in the Slytherin dungeons?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "No, I haven't, but I could arrange it," he said, pointedly looking at George. "But there were things there, once, before the Slytherins decided to have a midnight snack, that is."

"Yea, the bunch of flesh-eating-"

"Ron!" This time it was Hermione who stepped in.

"Well, looks like Weasley and I will have no problem keeping the old rivalry alive this year." Draco was still lounging against the rocking chair, Harry's untidy hair tickling his forearm. Draco shivered.

"You two better not jump at each other's throats every chance you get." Harry had a stern look on his face. "I don't mind you guys bantering back and forth, but bloodshed will make me turn both of you into small white mice and then I'll let Crookshanks after you."

"Why do people always want to turn me into a rodent?" Draco looked at Harry, pouting. "Why not a swan, or a snake-"

"Maybe they're trying to say something about your character, Malfoy. Plus, you're already a snake," Ron said teasingly, without the malice he had used before.

"Harry!" called Mrs. Weasley, "Ready to open your presents?"

They all gathered in the living room after Mrs. Weasley had levitated all the presents onto the coffee table. From Fred and George Harry had received an assortment of products from their joke shop, much to Mrs. Weasley's dismay. Ginny had pitched in with Hermione to buy a large set of books covering everything known about Quidditch, including the _1001 New Moves That Will Improve Your Quidditch Game _that Harry had been looking at that afternoon. Mrs. Weasley had knitted him another sweater, this one dark red with a gold H in the middle. Mr. Weasley gave him a new type of parchment, a Ministry invention, where words appeared without a quill. All one had to do was dictate , and afterwards the parchment would fold itself up and seal itself. Ron had given him a CD of the new wizard rock band Boomslang Paradise, with their new hit "The Sorcerer."

As Harry picked up the last present, from Draco, he caught the other boy's mischievous glance and returned it. The package was long and thin, and for a moment Harry's mind went to the gutter and he was horrified. Fighting back the mental images, Harry unwrapped the shining green tissue paper and a candle fell into his outstretched palm, along with a knut and a sickle. It was a long taper, gold and silver intertwined for twelve inches that met in a neon blue wick at the top. Harry's mind flashed back to a night not so long ago in his room...

__

"Someone's a romantic. Bring a few candles in here and we could make a cheesy romance novel."

"And what would they say? 'It was a dark stormy night, and as Harry wrestled Draco onto the creaking bed, they kicked over the candles and set the entire neighborhood on fire.'"

"So I'd have to force you, eh? I thought this was one of those mutual relationships."

"It is. Just adds some interest when there's a bit more action."

And then, back to that afternoon...

"I'm being stupid. And I can pay you back later, don't worry."

"Oh, you'll pay me back alright. Just not in galleons, sickles, and knuts."

Harry grinned, knowing that there was more to the gift than what everyone saw.

"A candle? Does it do something?" Ron looked a bit skeptical.

"Yes, it burns." Draco smiled at Ron.

"You set yourself up for that one," said George.

Ron didn't return the smile. "Yea, I know."

"But, yes, there's more to it than just burning. It's charmed to not melt, at all, so it basically lasts forever. If you untwist the gold and silver, each becomes a temporary wand that can be used for ten simple spells, or five advanced ones. The wick becomes an exploding charm, and will have the effect of a stunning spell on anyone within a one-hundred foot radius when activated. Comes in handy at times, if you ask me."

Fred whistled. "Where'd you find that?"

"Not in Diagon Alley. And that's all I'm going to say."

"Just as well. I don't need Fred and George buying any exploding charms." Mrs. Weasley looked slightly alarmed at Draco's gift, but didn't say anything.

They ate, drank, and talked late into the night, and finally called it quits around 2 A.M. Hermione and Ginny stumbled into their room with mumbled good-nights and Ron crashed face first into his bed the moment he had his pyjamas on.

"Harry, wait," whispered Draco as Harry pulled back the sheets. "Don't go to sleep yet, come here."

"Draco, I'm exhausted, can I please just go to bed?"

"No, follow me."

Grumbling, Harry stayed close on Draco's heels as they climbed the few stairs to the attic above Ron's room.

"This better not just be because you want to kiss me." Harry was irritable, and he felt more like nodding off than snogging.

"No, it's not because I want to kiss you, although that may come later. I wanted to give you the other part of your present." Draco slid a ring off his finger, and taking Harry's right hand, slid it onto his ring finger. The ring was thin and made out of pure silver, the image of a topaz lion twisting with an emerald serpent raised on the outside. The moonlight caught the carved gems and the dim glow that came from within them diffused

across their faces.

"The lion represents you, and the serpent me. As long as their internal lights glow, we're alive. Once the lights die out, we know the other is gone." Draco held out his right hand and let Harry see his. "This way, we'll be able to keep an eye on each other, without looking too suspicious."

Harry looked from the rings to the unveiled, pure emotion in Draco's smokey eyes, his heart in his throat. Taking Draco's hand, he pulled him close and initiated a bruising kiss, which Draco returned with just as much force. Harry felt Draco link his arms around his neck, his slender fingers raking through his hair.

"Thank you," Harry gasped as Draco licked a trail up his neck to his ear, then went back down, leaving bite marks every few inches. The fine, silky strands of Draco's hair caressed his skin, causing him to shudder.

"I thought you said you didn't want to kiss," Draco paused and smiled against Harry's ear. "Change of plans?"

"Right now I want to do so much more than kiss you." Harry slid his hand up the front of Draco's pyjama top.

"Harry, you're drunk. I can smell it. How many Butterbeers did you drink?"

"Five. I'm not drunk." To prove his point, he pushed away from Draco and tried to stand up, but stumbled. Draco caught him and steadied him in an instant.

"You're definitely drunk. Sit down." Draco guided Harry over to a dusty old couch, and laid him down, his head resting on one of Mrs. Weasley's handmade pillows.

"I'm fine. Really." Although he had his glasses on, Harry couldn't see very well, or think clearly. "Just come here."

About all the protest Draco gave was a brief "Harry" in a warning tone as he leaned down and pressed his lips against the other boy's. Draco could taste the sweetness left by the beer, mixed with the taste of Harry, slightly salty but not bitter. Harry responded immediately, and Draco climbed into Harry's lap, trying to erase any distance between them. It was enough to make anybody drunk, and Draco threw all caution into the wind.

Making as little noise as possible, they quickly shrugged out of their shirts, their agile Seeker's hands undoing the buttons with ease. The explored, memorizing the defined planes and ridges of their bodies. Both were slim without being thin, but Draco was defined and solid where Harry was soft.

Cupping Harry's face with one hand, Draco drew away slowly, locking in to Harry's gaze as his eyes flew open, revealing two emeralds burning with desire.

"What is it?" Harry asked, searching Draco's expression. "Is everything all right?"

"Everything is perfect." Draco smiled, a true, open, heartfelt smile. "I just wanted to say

that-"

Harry didn't find out what Draco wanted to say, because at that moment the attic door swung open slowly, revealing a flame haired silhouette in the doorway. Draco tried to scramble off Harry, but it was too late; there was no way they could cover up the evidence. Shirtless, they froze, a tangled mess of limbs and untidy hair. The figure froze, too, openmouthed.

"Harry? Malfoy?!"


	5. Soap and Water

****

Ok, editing all these chapters in hell on my eyes, that's for sure. But, I'd really like to get six, if not seven, up tonight. I'm going to keep working, and thanks for all your patience guys!

Disclaimer: No es mio. Lo quiero . . .

………………………………............................................................................................

"Lucius, I expect all is well with the boy?" The Dark Lord gazed unfeelingly at his most dedicated Death Eater, who was sitting opposite the chess board. "You did not harm him with that Slicing Spell?"

Lucius returned his stare with the cold calculating eyes of one who has become accustomed to witnessing death. "Of course not. I modified it to only cut deeply, but not

slice any vital organs. We don't want our distraction to die, do we?"

"No, that would be a fairly serious drawback in the grand scheme of things."

"Yes, it would be." Lucius moved his knight up two spaces and right one. "Check."

"You must not let your feelings for him cloud your ability to do what is best for the movement. Paternal instinct must be erased, along with all emotional ties."

"I may have sired him, but I'm not his father." Lucius challenged the Dark Lord's raised eyebrow. "Since his birth he has been an item for your use. Of the two of us, you own him more than I do."

"That is where you are blind, Lucius." Voldemort moved a bishop to block the knight. "People are not owned; they are not playthings to be dealt with lightly. As a Malfoy, you never loved, or even liked, anything enough to be bound by it. There were never any strings attached, and what mattered to you always had material value, and nothing more." No sign as to what Voldemort was feeling surfaced as Lucius took the pawn.

"Emotion complicates things. I lead a very simple life."

"Yes, you do. But your heir doesn't." Lucius' head snapped up. "Young Master Malfoy is bound to you, and although you may not realize it you are bound to him. One thing cannot be attached to another without the other being attached to it."

"I have made every effort to detach myself from him-"

"And he has made every effort to attach himself to you. It is his weakness: he wants praise, he wants to be accepted for all of his efforts. In training him for service to me, your harsh, emotionless tactics severed the steel that would have made him the most powerful advocate I would have had, and in that infinitely small crevice, a desire for acceptance trickled in and led to unchecked emotion. He used to show it in his anger, and now he shows it in his love."

"Yes, but now his weakness has turned him into our ally."

"No, not an ally. An ally cooperates willingly, knowing full well what he is walking into. Draco is a pawn, being moved around the board according to the hand that controls him, something valuable enough to be kept while needed, but disposed of once he has fulfilled his part."

"His infatuation with the Potter boy, although despicable, has helped us in finding out information that otherwise we would have never uncovered."

"Yes, Draco did turn into quite a rumor monger on that particular subject. But let me remind you Lucius, the seed of his love was the admiration of someone who possessed all the qualities that he wanted in you. Bravery, courage, passion, acceptance, the things you could possess if you would unlock your heart."

"The things that would create a large whirlwind of complication."

"Ah, but emotion creates a motive unlike any other."

"And a weakness."

"A weakness that we will use to our advantage. But please, do tell me why you are so certain that Harry Potter will befriend Draco and become as attached to him as Draco is to Harry."

"That, my Lord, is a secret that will have to wait."

"You know I don't like you keeping secrets from me. Last time that happened, people died."

"You killed them."

"Unfortunately, yes. Deaths that wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for your carelessness. We haven't quite filled the ranks yet; we do not need more attention from the Ministry than it is already giving us."

"Yes, my Lord."

"You are my most dangerous follower."

"And why is that?"

"You have no allegiance, no attraction, no reason to exist."

"Yes, I do. To rid the wizarding world of filth and impurities." He moved his queen.

"And what will you do when it is clean?"

"That will be something I'll have to decide in the future, when the time comes that only

Purebloods are left."

Voldemort placed a pawn in front of Lucius' king, then tipped it over. Lucius started.

"Checkmate."

****

………………………………............................................................................................

"I, uh, I should go..."

"Um, wait, I can explain. It's not what-"

"No, Harry, it is exactly what it looks like." Draco climbed of Harry, sweeping a few silky stands of his hair behind his ear. "She walked in on us-"

"Snogging!" Ginny gasped, stumbling backward. "I thought I heard noises, and... oh my..."

"Ginny..." Harry, face red, quickly buttoned up his pyjama top. "Look, Ginny, I'm sorry.

We shouldn't-"

"I think I need to sit down." Harry leaped off the couch, making room for her. Ginny plunked down hard, unable to look either of them in the face, and buried her head in her hands. Draco knelt in front of her and tried to take her hands in his, but she jerked away. He tried again, more firmly, caught her hands, and looked up into her eyes.

"Ginny, no Ginny, look at me." She did. "I'm sorry. It was wrong. But can you promise me that you'll never breathe a word of this to anyone?"

"I won't tell, don't worry. It would be embarrassing for all of us." Her eyes were still wide, but Ginny had regained control of herself. "You... and Harry, you're..."

"Yes, we're together." Draco's eyes had hardened, and he became defensive. Dropping her hands, he rose to his feet, looking at Harry. Harry gave Draco a warning look, and stepped forward. "Ginny, we should all just go to bed. It's late, and we can deal with it tomorrow."

"Yea, okay." She motioned for Harry to lean forward, and she whispered in his ear. "For, the record, I don't blame you. He is very handsome." She smiled, and quietly padded down the stairs.

"Oops." Draco was still standing in next to the couch, shirt in hand.

"Yes, a lot of oops. That was fairly embarrassing."

"Yes, it was, We didn't even put on a proper show." Draco examined his chest. "My, Harry, it looks as if you hadn't eaten dinner before you got up here." Sure enough, there were bite marks all over his chest, one near his collarbone bleeding.

"Sorry. Guess I got a bit carried away." Harry examined the cut, which was right above the Draco's almost-healed wound. "You've been given quite a few scars lately, haven't you?"

"Yes, great scars I'll tell my grandchildren about. 'This one is from the time my father tried to kill me, and this one is from the time Harry Potter bit me during a fairly energetic snogging session.'"

"Alright, enough already. I'm going to bed. Are you coming?"

"In a minute. You go down, and don't wait up. I'm going to clean this off."

"How?"

"Soap and water."

"Oh, okay." Harry yawned. "G'night Draco."

"Night lover boy," Draco said in a high voice dripping with gaudy sensuality. "I'll see you

soon."

Harry rolled his eyes and walked out. Upon reaching their room, he fell noisily into bed, but couldn't fall asleep. His heart was still racing from the surprise of Ginny, not to mention Draco's intense kisses and the sensation of long, slender fingers gently stroking his sides. Harry shivered at the memory, his nerves aching for more. He had almost decided to go after Draco when the boy tip-toed in and carefully climbed in bed.

After a moment, "You're not asleep, are you?"

"No."

"Go to sleep. You need it."

"I can't. Mind's too full."

"Maybe that whole Occlumency thing will help you. Being an insomniac is not a good

thing."

"I know." A sigh. "I just can't relax, too much adrenaline."

"Come here."

"Draco, I'm already wound up enough as it is-"

"I'm not going to stimulate you-" Draco smiled at Harry's gasp, "I'm going to hold you."

"What?! Where?"

"Just come here. It's a proven fact that all humans feel more comfortable and relaxed in the arms of someone they trust." Harry scooted closer, and Draco encircled his waist, drawing him close. "Think you can sleep now?"

"I'll try."

"Don't try, do." But Harry was fast asleep, his soft exhalations tickling the base of Draco's throat. Although Harry slept soundly for hours, a good deal of time passed before Draco was able to drift off.

****

………………………………............................................................................................

"Harry, can I talk to you?" Hermione drew Harry aside after lunch the next day. "I need to ask you about something."

"Really? Usually it's the other way round." He followed her up to her room, where she closed and locked the door. "Mutus," she mumbled.

"What?"

"Charm that makes the door soundproof."

"Oh... okay. Now, what did you want to talk to me about, all alone, in your room?"

Hermione crossed her arms and looked at him sternly. "Harry Potter, do not make me hex you because of childish perviness."

"Sorry."

"Anyways." Hermione motioned for him to sit in a chair while she sat cross- legged on the bed. "I know you won't really want to hear this next part, but..."

"Is this about Draco?" Harry tensed. "I told you already, I trust him whether you two do or don't, and you can't change my mind."

"I wasn't going to." Hermione gave him a withering look. "Now will you hear me out?"

Harry rested his head in his hands and stared at her in mock attentiveness. She ignored him.

"You trust Draco, I know this, and I want to trust him. But after seeing how easy it is to fool people- Polyjuice Potion, changing appearance willingly- I'm suspicious that someone could be disguising himself as Draco to get closer to you."

"And what can we do about that?"

"There is a spell, the _Veritas_ spell. It's a truth spell so strong and unbreakable that it is considered to be Dark magic. I've researched a bit, and it shouldn't be hard to do, but since the Ministry can sense Dark magic, we'll have to do it quickly."

"But Hermione, we can't do magic outside of school. How are we supposed to do this without getting caught?"

"We'll need to perform it in a place where there is a lot of magical activity, or a place that has magical shields. Of course, we could always set up our own shields..."

"Why can't we do it when we get back to Hogwarts?"

"Are you dim?" Hermione jumped up and knelt down near Harry. "There are so many anti-Dark magic shields and security spells there that the minute the words were out of our mouths we would either be bound or killed."

"But fourth year, Moody..."

"He had permission to do those spells. Even if Dumbledore didn't put the wards back up, which I'm sure he did, the other protective spells would sense and report it. No, Hogwarts is out of the question. We have to do it before September first."

"Why can't we just use Veritaserum? Doesn't it have the same effects?"

"There is no way we could ever procure those ingredients without being sent to Azkaban. No, the truth spell is the safest way, and the hardest to trace."

Harry put his head in his hands. As much as he didn't want to go through with this, he knew that they needed to prove that Draco was completely innocent and not being controlled. His stomach lurched.

"Alright. When?"

"I have to go down to the library off Diagon Alley to look up the spells for wards, and I can do that this afternoon. Ginny wanted to go shopping anyways, and I'll ask to take her and use it as an excuse to stop in the library. Depending on what I have to get and how long it will take me to learn this, we can perform it tonight or tomorrow night, in the attic."

Harry stood up, avoiding Hermione's gaze. "This doesn't feel right. I feel like I'm betraying him."

"Draco understands mistrust, and he'll understand that we have to do this." Hermione's expression was fixed. "We're doing this, whether you like it or not."

Taken aback by her forcefulness, Harry gaped at her. "And what if Draco doesn't consent? Are you going to hex him before you perform Dark magic?"

"Harry! Do you think I would try something like that?" Shocked, Hermione froze in the center of the room, hands at her sides. "You should know better than anyone that I would never hurt anyone on purpose."

"Sorry, 'Mione, I know you don't want to hurt anyone." Harry took a deep breath before going on. "But I'm the first person Draco had ever really trusted, and what if this just returns him to how he used to be? Do you want that?" A steely hardness had come to his face, highlighting the defined lines of his jaw, which was set.

"No, Harry, I don't," she said quietly as she walked over to him. Looking up into his eyes, she realized how much he had grown and changed since she had seen him last. He had shot up, and he looked less like a boy and more like a man. He still had the same arrogant stubbornness, and the same tender love that he had always had for his friends, and almost everyone around him. But now there was something different, something that she couldn't put her finger on...

"I don't want Draco to revert back to being a snob. But Harry, I do need to know, once and for all, whether we need to be careful around him or not. Just this once, and I promise that I won't question him anymore if he's trustworthy."

Sensing that he was fighting a losing battle, Harry conceded. "Fine. I'll talk to Draco about it. But please, do not expect me to take any responsibility in this. It's your idea, and you will be the one performing it. I will only be there to make sure that Draco doesn't get hurt."

"What about Ron? Shouldn't he be there, to hear what Draco says under a truth spell?"

Harry sighed. "You know what? Anything I say at this point means absolutely nothing to you, so why are you even asking?" He stormed over to the door, yanked it open, and ran down the stairs so heavily that Hermione, mouth slack, heard each thud until he jumped off the last one into the Weasley's kitchen.

"Practicing for the elephant race?" Draco said as Harry flopped down on the couch. Ron and Draco were sitting Indian style on the ground on opposite sides of the coffee table, engaged in a heated game of Wizard's Chess. Ron was obviously winning, but Draco ignored this blatant fact and amused himself by creating dialogues between chess pieces as they slaughtered each other.

"Draco, can't you just play the game?" Ron moaned after another of Draco's scenes. "If you want to play theatre, grab a few of Ginny's old dolls and go entertain yourself."

"I know other ways to entertain myself." Draco said benignly, as if commenting on the weather. Ron, on the other hand, choked.

"If you ever do that in my house-"

"Weasley! I was talking about a good book, maybe even roasting chestnuts over an open fire. But please, feel free to explain what exciting activities you were thinking of." The innocent smile did not match the devilish look in his eyes.

"You know what? That's it. I'm out of here. Oh, and by the way, checkmate."

Harry heard Ron bolt upstairs before he turned to Draco. "That was interesting."

"The game? Not really. Ron's much better at chess than I am."

"No, the fact that you both could actually play chess without losing limbs." Harry scooted off the couch and sat on the floor next to Draco, purposely letting one arm rest the other boy's. "More than I expected this early in the truce."

"Well, we have a reason. We both want to be friends with you, and we don't want to stress you out about it, so we decided to put our differences aside and be peaceful even if it kills us."

"Ron said that?"

"In shorter and less eloquent sentences, of course, but that was the basic idea." Draco looped his arm around Harry's, entwining their fingers. "If it makes you happy, we can do it."

Harry smiled, resting his head on Draco's shoulder. "Thanks. I really owe you one this time."

"Wanna go repay your debt?"

"There are still people here!"

"Harry? Draco? Hermione and I are off to Diagon Alley." Ginny bounced down the stairs, Hermione on her heels. They were greeted by Draco lounging lazily on the couch, Harry leaning against the couch at Draco's feet.

"I'm coming too!" shouted Ron as he hurtled down the stairs.

"Any idea when you'll be back?" Harry hopped up and followed them into the kitchen, where Ginny readied the Floo Powder.

"A few hours. It shouldn't take us too long, but you know Hermione and libraries. She could turn fifty before she realized a day had passed." Hermione gave Ginny a mock-disapproving glare, then flashed her a smile, which vanished when she looked at Harry.

Ron looked puzzled, but just rolled his eyes. Her back turned, Ginny took no notice and, grabbing her handful, stepped into the fireplace. "See ya soon!" She vanished in a blaze of green fire, as did Ron a moment later. Hermione was about to do the same, but...

"Wait." She turned at the sound of Harry's voice.

"Do what you have to do." Harry had taken on the appearance of someone who had elected to clean out chamber pots instead of play Quidditch, and Hermione gave him a quick hug before she disappeared in a cloud of hazy green smoke.

****

………………………………............................................................................................

"You get more creative every time we snog," panted Draco as he rolled off of Harry. "I never would have thought of that."

"I just try to keep you coming back for more." Harry looped his arm around Draco's bare chest, pinning him to the bed. "Seems to work, doesn't it?"

"Oh, I'd come back even if you did the same thing every time." Draco toyed with the strings of Harry's pyjama pants. He pulled the strings loose, and was about to pull something else when Harry stopped him.

"No."

"Please? I'm a horny sixteen year old. Just indulge me this once!"

"Yea, just this time, and next time, and the time after that..."

"So there's going to be a time?"

"Sometime."

"When's that?"

"Not now." Harry pulled himself on top of Draco. "I like you a lot, I really do, but not yet."

"Ruin a perfectly good snog session by giving me this joyous bit of information." Draco struggled to get out from Harry but only created friction that made his nerves flare with pleasure.

"Speaking of bad news..." Harry sat on Draco's stomach, straddling his waist. "There is no way you are going to like what I'm about to say. I know it."

"So don't say it." Draco took Harry's hands in his. "No news is good news, right?"

"Yea, but this is news you need to hear." "Spill it."

"Hermione wants to put a spell on you so that she can interrogate you and you'll tell the truth and then she says she can trust you if you say good things," Harry said in one breath.

"The world's worst un-punctuated sentence." Draco leaned back on his elbows and looked up at Harry. "Anyways, I know which spell she's talking about. The _Veritas_ spell- a Dark Arts spell created by Salazar Slytherin so that he could always double-check his sources for the correct information. Lucius used to put it on me all the time when he thought I was lying. Not the most comfy spell, but very effective."

Harry was shocked. He hadn't put it past Lucius to use Dark magic on his son, but hearing the actual words fall so casually from Draco's lips were shocking. Harry felt the familiar pang of hurt that stung him whenever Draco mentioned the torturous life he had led for sixteen years, and he felt so guilty about not being able to do anything about it.

"Earth to Harry James Potter... could you please get off my bladder? I have to pee."

"What, oh, yea, sorry." Harry shifted off and lay on his back on the bed, the sheets of which were now very tangled. "So, you're okay with this whole thing?" he asked Draco when he returned.

"No. I'm not okay with the fact that the only way people will trust me is through using magical proof, but I can't change that. Granger and Weasley need proof, I understand. And if this is what will convince then that I'm clean, then so be it." Draco stretched out next to Harry, his delicate hands tracing the lineaments of Harry's face. With a sigh, "I just wish I was more trustworthy than this."

"You are." Harry nibbled lightly on the tip of Draco's ring finger. "Some people are just too dense to see it."

"At least someone believes that."

"Does it really matter what anyone else thinks?"

"No." Draco smiled as Harry sucked on his finger. "You manage to look totally innocent when you do that."

"It's a talent I have."

"Do you have any other talents?" Draco turned on his side to face Harry, his hand doodling patterns on Harry's bare stomach. "Care to share any of them?"

"Not right now." Harry slid off the bed and pulled his shirt back on. "The others should be back any minute, and we don't want to get caught again, do we?"

"As long as I'm with you, I really don't care."

"You're being sappy."

"I meant it though." Looking down into Draco's eyes, Harry saw the earnest truthfulness inside, and he sat down, cupping Draco's chin in his hand.

"I know you did." He crushed Draco's upturned mouth to his, the dizzying heat of their kiss spreading throughout his body like wildfire. Harry was just about to climb back onto the bed with Draco when they heard voices downstairs.

"They're back." Draco propped himself up on his elbows, still lying on his stomach. "We should probably go say hello."

"Yea, and you should probably get a shirt on."

"But you pay more attention to me when I'm half naked!" Draco pouted.

"Just think of how much attention you'd get if you walked around stark naked." Harry smiled coyly, splaying one hand over Draco's chest and pushing him off the bed. Draco landed on the floor with a satisfying thud, scowling.

"I was getting up."

"No you weren't."

"Harry, why are you in your pyjama pants? And Malfoy, why are you on the floor, shirtless?" Ron strode into the room and threw a couple packages on his bed. "You two might wanna be careful–It's starting to look like you're more than friends."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Draco growled, standing up and shrugging into a sweatshirt so oversized that it barely hung on his shoulders. "This isn't mine."

"No, it's Bill's old one. You can wear it though." Ron scowled. "And why do you think I would be turned on by gay sex?"

"You're into Granger."

Ron had grabbed the front of Draco's sweatshirt and pulled him off the ground until Draco was looking into his eyes. Draco had to stand on the very tips of his toes to avoid being strangled, since Ron was a good six inches taller than him.

"No matter what, don't you ever bring Hermione into this."

"You're a bit touchy when it comes to the subject of her, you know."

"Hmm, I wonder why. It doesn't take a genius to figure that out." Ron let go of the sweatshirt and Draco stumbled back a few steps, massaging his chest where Ron had scraped him while grabbing the shirt.

Harry's eyes widened. "So something _is_ going on?"

"No. Wish it was, though." Ron tinged pink, but kept his head high. "She hasn't said anything yet, and I... It's too hard to ask her about it."

"About what?" Harry's eyes were sparkling now.

"About us! About being more than friends, about how she feels about me... Why am I saying all this with Malfoy in the room?"

"I have no idea." Draco shrugged, smiling. "But please, do go on. I'm quite interested."

"Fuck you."

"Actually, I'd rather fuck-"

"DON'T FINISH THAT THOUGHT!" Ron yelled. "I do NOT want to know who you'd sleep with."

"Your loss, someone else's gain." Draco smirked. "But Granger would probably love to hear who you have on your Most Worthy of Sleeping With list."

"I swear, if you tell her..."

"Please, you two are bickering again."

Before they could retort there was a knock on the door and Fred and George popped in.

"Back from the shop," said George as he flopped down next to Harry. "What's up?"

"Ron was just telling us all about-"

"-His trip to Diagon Alley." Harry cut Draco off, eyes flashing. Draco grinned innocently. "Anyways, what did you get, Ron?"

"Nothing much, just a bunch of parchment and quills. Anything new with the store?" he asked, hastily changing the subject.

"Well, we did invent something new..." started George.

"And we'll be testing it out tomorrow night," finished Fred. "And I have a feeling that you all will like this one. Puts a new spin on an old game."

"You'll get to help test it, too, as long as you don't say anything to Mum about it."

George had a mischievous look in his eyes and a smile to match. "Hermione and Ginny can come, too, but if Mum finds out she'll kill us."

"What is it?" asked Harry, excited.

"You'll find out tomorrow night." Fred and George left the room grinning, leaving the other three boys confused and anxious.

"Wonder what it could be. Do you think it'll explode?" Ron half frowned. "I don't want to get blown up."

"They've already made things that blow up. If they're this excited about it, it must be something new." Harry shrugged. "Whatever it is, I hope you Mum doesn't get wind of it."

"Harry! I found the spells! Oh, good everyone's here," Hermione said as she dashed into the room and closed the door. "Now, you've told Draco about it?"

"Apparently he's already familiar with the spell." Harry felt the awful twisting in his stomach again. "Says that he... learned it at the manor."

"No, Harry, I experienced it at the manor." Draco looked to Hermione. "My dad used to use it on me whenever he thought I was lying."

"So you know that it'll hurt you?"

"What!?" cried Harry, jumping up. "It's painful?"

"Yes, it feels like someone is trying to turn you inside out and every word is ripped from your flesh until the spell is taken off," explained Draco. "If left on too long, it can seriously harm people. If it was actually a well-known spell, it would be grouped with the Unforgivables."

"There is no way you are putting that spell on him!" Harry protested. "It could be more dangerous than we think!"

"What else do you suggest?" retorted Hermione, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Why don't you just try trusting people the old-fashioned way? Why does everything have to be about books and spells and proof?"

"Because we need to know, Harry!" interrupted Ron, defending Hermione. "She's right, we need to hear the truth from his own lips!"

"Anyone care to hear what I have to say?" Draco was laying lengthwise on the bed, his hands behind his head. He continued without waiting for an answer. "I have no objections to being put under this spell-"

"But Draco-"

"Shut up, Harry." Draco glared at him. "I have no objections to being put under this spell, but I do have a few requests. One," he said, ticking each off on his fingers, "Do not purposely leave the spell on for excessive amounts of time, as this will result in many problems for the rest of you, most in the form of hexes or jinxes. Two, do not ask idiotic and unnecessary questions."

"Such as?" prompted Ron.

"Such as your question, Weasley. I'd think the blatantly obvious immature things you could force me to admit to while under that spell would be clear to even someone as thick as yourself."

Harry had sat down on the bed, his face in his hands. _They're going to hurt him again, he thought. They're going to make him relive those horrible memories of his life back at the manor, and they'll hurt him._

"Harry!" exploded Ron, "It's just Malfoy! Why are you freaking out over this?"

"Just Malfoy?" Harry repeated quietly, his voice steely. "Just Malfoy? Ron, I'd think you'd have a little more respect for people than that!" he shouted, having crescendoed.

"Ron! Harry! Stop it!" Hermione jumped between them, pleading. "Ron, that wasn't a very tactful thing to say. Harry, you need to stop acting like this is the end of the world! It is just a spell, but unfortunately it causes pain. So does the Cruciatus Curse, and you've lived through that. We're not going to hurt Draco, we're just going to question him."

"And since when have you taken to calling him Draco?" questioned Ron.

"It's been his name since he was born, I don't see why I can't use it." Hermione rounded on Ron, arms crossed. "And I don't see what would be so bad about you learning to use it, either, especially if you're trying to become friends."

"Actually, it was my name before I was born." Draco's tone disregarded the heated fight taking place in front of him, and he acted like he was repeating an interesting fact he had picked up from some remote place. "Lucius specifically wanted this name because it means 'Dragon' in Latin."

"Ah, once again the reptile thread of your life resurfaces," Ron drawled sarcastically. "But Hermione! He's always been Malfoy, always will be Malfoy-"

"Well, it is my last name, what a coincidence," Draco muttered under his breath. Harry choked back a laugh.

"You three are impossible!" Hermione yelled, hands on her hips. "Whatever is wrong, I'm locking you all in this room until you figure it out. I'll come back before midnight to unlock the door. Meet me in the attic, we'll perform the spell, and we can go to bed."

Shocked, the boys froze, immobile, as she stormed out of the room and shut the door.

They heard her magically lock the door, then her footsteps faded from hearing.

"But what about food?" Ron wondered, devastated. "I'm starving."

"For God's sake, get your mind off your stomach for once." Draco was still lying on the bed, but now looked agitated. "I cannot believe she did this."

"I can. We deserve it." Ron and Draco glared at Harry. "Well we do! Look at us!"

"Yea, we've all been prats." They fell silent.

After a while, Harry looked up. "What's on your mind, Ron? You look lost in thought."

"Oh yes, he would be lost, since he doesn't go there very often," Draco said bitterly.

"Just because you don't like being stuck in here doesn't mean you can take it out on me!"

yelled Ron.

"This sucks."

"No, really, Malfoy."

"Maybe we should actually try to sort this all out." Ron and Draco glared at Harry again. "What else can we do? We have almost five hours before Hermione lets us out, why don't we just get this over with once and for all?"

"Oh, alright. I cannot believe I am doing this," whined Draco as he sat on Ron's bed, and Ron pulled a chair between the beds, forming a triangle.

"So... how do we start?" Ron shifted uncomfortably. "I can't think of a way to start this without sounding like one of those cheesy American radio psychotherapists."

"I have a starting place," offered Harry. "Draco, yesterday outside the Quidditch shop, you said that your friends don't know who you really are. What was that all about?"

Draco gazed out the window for a long moment before he faced Ron and Harry again. "Do you really want to know? Honestly, it's not pretty."

"Would he have asked if he didn't want to know?" Ron said, exasperated. "Just go on."

"Alright, but you heard the disclaimer." Draco shrugged. "My childhood wasn't exactly a picnic in the park. Lucius was always dealing in Death Eater business and meeting people everywhere, so he wasn't home much. When he was, though, it was as if I had died and gone straight to Hell.

"I've said before that Lucius wasn't the greatest father. He used to beat me. My mum never knew; whenever he was finished he would wave his wand and all the bruises, cuts, and blood would disappear, leaving just the pain and the memories." He ran his hands through his hair, gray eyes wet with unshed tears. "There were other ways he tortured me, 'teaching' me spells and hexes, jinxes, the like. He used a whip once or twice, the Cruciatus Curse a couple of times, and Imperius to make me hurt myself. After awhile I became used to it, and I was able to get through it knowing that if I could survive those few days Lucius was home, I could then go back to living without fear until he showed up again. Dobby would administer spells and charms to lessen the pain, but they couldn't be very strong, otherwise Lucius would know I was being cared for."

Tears were now rolling unchecked down his cheeks, and both Harry and Ron were staring at him in shock. Instantly Harry had launched himself across the small space and had his arms around the sobbing figure, silently running his fingers though Draco's hair, trying to comfort him. Ron slowly shuffled over and sat on the other side of Draco, putting one arm around his shoulders. The shuddering sobs racked through the crying boy for a few minutes before he calmed himself.

"I'm acting like I have PMS, aren't I?" he said, voice quavering.

"Yea, you are," Ron admitted gently, with a smile. "But right now, you of all people have an excuse."

Harry sat holding Draco tightly, and not letting go. He felt the warm salty tears slide down the neck of his shirt and pool somewhere near is stomach, creating a wet river down the front of his shirt. He was numb. He had always hated Lucius, from the first day he met him in Flourish and Blotts. Now that hatred was multiplied a good hundred fold, if not more.

Draco looked up at Harry, slowly pulling away. "I'm alright now," he said, wiping the last tears off his cheeks. "I'll be okay."

"That explains why you've been so horrible to us for the past five years," thought Ron audibly. "Your dad hated us, so you had to follow suit so you wouldn't be beaten to a bloody pulp."

"Well, when you say it so turgidly it makes complete sense." Draco gave a half smile as Ron raised an eyebrow at him. "Just because I'm getting along with you now doesn't mean I can't be sarcastic."

"Yea, no matter how good you are to him, he just keeps the satire flowing," supplemented Harry as he checked his watch. "Oh goody. Thirty minutes down, two hundred and seventy to go."

"I'm hungry." Draco frowned. "Hermione really should have left us some food."

"Think I could get away with banging on the floor of Fred and George's room until they bring us stuff?"

"Who would you be banging?"

"Malfoy, that is sick, twisted, and wrong!" gasped Ron through laughter. Harry had

collapsed on the bed, laughing so hard that he was practically suffocating.

"Alright, alright. But seriously, I'm hungry." Ron stood on the bed and started hitting the ceiling with an open palm. "Oy! Fred! George! You up there?"

"We're going to be down there in your room when the ceiling collapses because your banging on it so hard!" came Fred's muffled voice from upstairs. His words sent Harry and Draco into another fit of laughter. "What's the matter with you three? Aren't you coming down for supper?"

"We can't! Hermione locked us in here. After you finish, do you think you could apparate in here with something to eat?"

Both twins apparated into the room at the same time. "Why'd she stick you three together? I thought she didn't like blood," inquired George.

"She's being a-"

"Watch it Malfoy..."

"Moderator?" finished Draco with an innocent smile. "She thinks that if we're stuck together for five hours, we'll figure out what makes everyone mad, sad, depressed, angry, horny..."

"Sorry to burst your bubble, Draco, but I am not staying in the same room as you if you're horny." Ron's eyes had widened considerably in alarm, and he was inching towards his

brothers.

"We'll nick you some food, no problem," said Fred. "One condition, though- no matter what, you have to come to our little get-together tomorrow night."

"Deal. Now go get food. I'm hungry," said Ron impatiently.

"Yes, Master." With a salute, they vanished, leaving three rumbling stomachs and wondering minds to return to the question session their hunger had interrupted. "Okay, Draco, my turn to ask a question." Ron had sobered, no sign of a grin on his face. "What made you change?"

"What?"

"For five years you torture and torment Harry, Hermione, and me. Then all of a sudden, you and Harry are great friends and he's trying to get us to trust you. What happened in the few weeks from the end of summer term to the night your father attacked you? How can you go from hate to friendship do quickly?"

"Ron, I never hated any of you. I was jealous of what you three have, and will always have, a bond that no one can break. And no matter how hard anyone tries, they can't become part of the circle that you three form." Draco finished a bit awkwardly, blushing.

"Jealous? You?"

"I'm not the only one. Ginny, too. And a lot of other people at Hogwarts. We all want to have friends like you, friends that would stand by us no matter what, and even die for us. You and Hermione would lay your lives on the line for Harry, and he would do likewise for both of you. Not everyone can find someone who loves them enough to do that. I can't," he answered, avoiding Harry's gaze.

"But why us? Why Harry?"

"I was raised to believe that the only way to get anywhere in life was to take what you needed without bothering with rules or emotions. But Harry, he made me feel that there was a reason to fight for good, that giving was more powerful than taking. He believes in me more than I believe in myself, and he was he first person to ever do that." By now Draco was a deep red, and he hid his face from both Harry and Ron.

__

I cannot believe I'm saying this in front of them, he thought to himself. _There is no way I will be able to face them after this._

"I never realized that people thought of us as a clique," Harry said to Ron, bewildered.

"Is it considered a clique with only three people?" Ron asked. "Mal- Draco, you okay? You don't look so good."

All that was heard from Draco was a muffled grunt, since his face was in his hands.

"Oh, don't be embarrassed. At least you told the truth."

"Malfoys don't lie. And usually we don't voice our emotions or thoughts to anyone, ever."

"But you're not a normal Malfoy, are you?" prodded Harry. "If you were, we'd turn you into a slug again."

"Now that was a disgusting experience. I was almost covered in as much slime as I used to use on my hair back in first and second year. I had really bad fashion sense then..."

"As compared to now?" said Harry, cocking an eyebrow. He grinned devilishly. "I have to admit, though, the loose hair is so much better. Doesn't make you look like you have a large stick up your ass." _Plus, it's more fun to play with when we're snogging_, he added mentally.

"Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived to Appraise Hairstyles," said Ron.

Just then, there was a loud POP and Fred and George had appeared with armloads of foods, ranging from appetizers to desserts. The three famished boys attacked with vigor, emptying the twins' arms in seconds.

"We owe you loads," managed Ron around a mouthful of chicken.

"Yes, you do," agreed Fred cheerfully. "Tomorrow night, you'll repay the debt."

They vanished.

"Should I be worried about their sexual orientation?" voiced an anxious Draco. "'Tomorrow night you'll repay your debt...'"

"Dunno with those two. They could be up to anything."

An evil smile spread over Draco's face, but he said nothing.

"So where were we? Oh, right, food..."

****

………………………………...........................................................................................

"Okay, time's up!" Hermione whispered as she unlocked the door at midnight. "Did you work things out?"

"Yup," yawned Draco. "So can I go to sleep now?"

"No, we have to go do the spell." She lead the group as they tiptoed up to the attic.

"Looks like someone actually came in here recently. There's footsteps everywhere! Mum must have been looking for something," Ron observed through a wide yawn.

Harry and Draco glanced at each other and smiled knowingly.

"Draco, sit down on the couch and make yourself comfortable. I'm going to put the wards up." Hermione walked around the perimeter of the room, muttering constantly. She performed the muting spell on the door, then faced Draco.

"Are you ready?"

Harry sat down next to Draco and took Draco's right hand in his left.

"Ready," he replied, his voice hard.

Hermione slowly raised her wand and pointed it at Draco's chest.

"_Veritas_."


	6. Of Memories and Mischief

"_Veritas_."

The moment the word passed over Hermione's lips, Harry thought that the bones in his hand had vanished. There was no way it could contort like that. Yet Draco had practically managed to make Harry's thumb and pinky finger meet . . . over the back of his hand.

"Who are you?" Hermione asked quickly, trying to make the question session as brief as possible.

"Draco Amadeus Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy." Harry's pinky and thumb were slowly getting nearer to each other, but Harry ignored it. He could in no way be in as much pain as Draco was right now.

"What happened the day you went to Privet Drive?"

"Lucius was going to bring me to see Voldemort and become a Death Eater, but I escaped on my broom before he could capture me and take me. He did manage to cut me open with a slicing spell, though."

"Why did you go to Harry's?"

"All the other people I know would have either turned me over to Voldemort, spat in my face, or I don't know where they live." Draco's expression was calm, but all three saw the shuddering rise and fall of his chest as he inhaled.

"Are you under the effects of a controlling curse such as the Imperius curse?" Each of Hermione's words were almost indistinguishable from the next as she spat them out.

"No."

"Are you a supporter of Voldemort?

"No."

"Are you in contact with any Death Eaters or supporters of Voldemort?"

"No, but many have children that go to Hogwarts and I will be sleeping in the same dorm with their offspring fairly soon."

"Are you part of a plan to harm or damage anyone in anyway?"

"Not at the time being, but if you don't hurry up..." Draco glared at Hermione.

"Do you have an idea as to where the Dark Lord resides?

"No."

Harry's hand was screaming in pain, but he kept his mouth shut.

"Is there a way for someone under the Veritas spell to lie while under the spell?"

"No."

"_Finite incantatem_." Hermione dropped her wand, a look of horror on her face as Draco fell back, his eyes closed.

"Oh, Draco, I am so sorry..." Her voice trailed off as wide eyes stared at the heaving form next to Harry. Ron slid his hand into hers and squeezed reassuringly as they watched Harry lean over Draco.

"Draco, are you alright?" Harry asked. "How do you feel?"

"Like someone is trying to turn me inside out and ripping words from my flesh, just like I told you before. Ow, it hurts to talk." One mercury-colored eye opened, focused on Harry, and shut again. "Just give me a few minutes, I'll be fine."

Harry heard footsteps approach, and turned around to see Ron and Hermione standing behind him, holding hands. Harry willed himself not to make any comments about it and suppressed a mischievous grin. Instead he smiled wanly.

"He'll be fine. Ron, could you get a damp cloth, or something cold we could put on his forehead? Might help cool him down."

"I... I know a pain-relieving spell," Hermione offered quietly.

"That's up to him, not me." Harry raised an eyebrow at Draco. "You want her to do it?"

Draco nodded vigorously, or as vigorously as he could in his current state.

"_Ablego acerbitas_."

Draco felt the pain ebb away slowly, leaving his skin extremely warm to the touch. Harry pulled away to avoid the searing heat, looking slightly worried.

"Why is he so warm now?" he asked, alarmed.

"That's just the pain leaving. Once it's gone, his skin will be it's normal heat again." The color that had drained out of Hermione's face returned. "Draco, I'm sorry," she apologized, her voice faltering. "I should have trusted you from the beginning. It wasn't right of me to judge you so quickly, and-"

"Hermione?" Draco interrupted.

"Yes?"

"I forgive you. Now stop. You're making me feel guilty." Draco sat up and opened his eyes. He noticed Harry massaging his left hand, and laughed. "I have the grip of a pregnant woman giving birth, don't I?"

"I've never held a pregnant woman's hand during birth, so I wouldn't know. But if her grip is anything like yours, I feel really sorry for the husband." He looked up as Ron returned with a soaking wet washcloth and tossed it to Draco, who immediately wrung it out over Harry's head. Ron and Hermione went into silent fits of laughter, neither looking very sorry for Harry.

"What was that for?" Harry yelped as the icy rivers ran his neck into his shirt. "That water's freezing!"

"If I had used it without wringing it out, I would be wet. And I couldn't wring it onto the floor or the couch- that would be rude. You were the only other option."

"If you weren't recovering from a Dark spell right now..." Harry started.

"You'd what?" Draco smirked. "Hit me?"

"No," Harry said. "I dunno what I'd do with you. Let's go to bed, shall we?" He reached out a hand to Draco, who took advantage of the help, and pulled him off the couch. No one noticed the evil smile that played at the corners of Harry's mouth.

The four of them traipsed downstairs, parting with Hermione to go to their respected rooms. Hermione's sleep was troubled, her guilt keeping her from sleeping deeply. Ron and Draco, on the other hand, feel into a peaceful slumber the moment their heads hit the pillows.

Harry, after toweling off and changing into dry pyjamas, climbed in bed next to Draco, but the turning wheels in his head didn't let him rest. When he finally did drift off, though, an elfish smile pulled at his lips all night.

---------------------------------------------

"Ron, get up!"

"No mum, just five more minutes..." Ron pulled the sheets over his head and turned away from the voice.

"Ron, you dolt, I'm not your mother. Why the hell does everyone call me their mother?"

Harry yanked the covers off of Ron, covering his mouth with one hand to muffle Ron's

yelps as the cool air hit him. "Come on, get up"

"Harry," Ron groaned, checking the clock. "It is... 7:30! Go back to bed!" Ron snuggled back into his pillow. He would sleep without any sheets, if that was what Harry forced him to do.

"I wanted to get back at Draco for wringing out that ice water on me last night."

Ron sat up immediately, a grin lighting up his face.

"What're you going to do?"

Harry motioned for Ron to step outside the room so they wouldn't wake Draco, and Harry told him all the details. A minute later (there wasn't much to this evil little plan), Ron padded back into the room, trying his best to hold back the laughter.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_," Harry whispered, and Draco rose a few inches off the bed, still curled in a fetal position. Ron silently opened the door, and Harry maneuvered the sleeping boy through the doorway, up the stairs, into the bathroom, lowering him carefully, gently, into the bathtub. Upon the muted impact, Draco barely reacted, just fidgeting and tucking his arms in closer around his chest. As eager as he was, Harry almost regretted disturbing the docile, almost vulnerable Draco that surfaced during sleep...

But Harry turned the cold shower on anyways, and was rewarded with a satisfying shriek from Draco.

During the next very hectic moment Draco jumped up and turned off the water, Harry and Ron bursts into fits of laughter so strong that they had to clutch each other to stay standing (which was meaningless since they ended up sitting down anyways), and the rest of the household woke up and came running.

"Harry? Ron? Is everything- OH, OH MY-" Hermione, who had reached the bathroom first, abruptly turned around the moment she saw Draco standing in the tub, his white pyjamas soaked through. Realizing this, he made a few guttural sounds as he searched for the nearest towel. This new discovery made Harry and Ron laugh so hard they started choking. Draco quickly shut the door and glared at the pair, showing no remorse that they could barely breathe.

"I know you planned this," he directed at Harry.

Harry just grinned innocently.

"Is everything okay in there?" called an anxious voice, belonging to Mrs. Weasley. "Do you boys need help?"

"Mum, they're three teenage boys locked in a bathroom, one soaking wet. What do you think they're up to?" came the taunting voice of Fred. A sharp slap followed.

"Ouch, Ginny, that hurt! Oh right, you have a little crush on..."

"Fred, that was second year. I'm going out with Dean Thomas."

"What!? When did this happen? George, our little sister has been keeping secrets from the family!"

"I knew," Mrs. Weasley said. "And so does your father, and Percy, Bill and Charlie, too. Ron's known since the train ride home."

"Why were we kept in the dark?"

"Hmm, let's think about that," drawled Ginny in a sarcastic tone very similar to Draco's.

"Right, now that they've forgotten us," Ron managed between gasps of air. "Draco, where did you learn to scream like that?"

Draco scowled, blushing furiously. He was about to retort using fairly nasty phrases when Mrs. Weasley raised her voice above the din.

"What happened? Is anyone hurt?"

"Just his pride," Harry muttered to Ron. Draco blushed a deeper shade of red.

"No mum, Draco just had a little encounter with the shower," Ron snickered. "D'you think you could get him some dry pyjamas?"

"Ronald Weasley! What did you do?" The mounting fury in her voice made all three of them jump. Draco looked amused.

"Nothing! We just need a set of clothes, preferably closer to Harry's size than mine."

They heard feet patter off down the stairs, and they didn't have to wait long before they heard them return. Unlocking the door, a hand slid in, tossed the clothes on the counter, and shut the door.

Draco grabbed the faded flannel clothing and ducked behind the shower curtain to change. Both Harry and Ron could hear Draco swearing under his breath, mumbling threats of revenge for them both.

Finally, Draco pushed back the curtain and stepped out of the tub, his dripping clothes slung over one arm. Without saying a word to either of them, he stalked out of the bathroom, making to throw the pyjamas in his shared room, but was stopped by Fred and George.

"Brilliant prank they played just now," Fred said casually.

"And we're suspecting that you want to get back at them, right?" George suggested.

Draco nodded. "And why would you be interested in that?"

"Draco!" Fred put on a look of shock. "We're the notorious Weasley twins! Why wouldn't we be interested in playing a joke for revenge?"

"Just think of the worst thing you could do to Harry and Ron. Without inflicting any physical damage, of course," George added as an afterthought when he saw Draco smile with glee.

"But have your ideas ready for tonight." Draco raised an eyebrow at Fred, who just shook his head. "You'll see."

With that, the twins clamored down the stairs to the kitchen. Draco threw the wet clothes on the floor of his room, grabbed his wand and dried them with a charm, and walked out just as Ron and Harry reached that landing.

Harry noticed the drastic change in Draco's mood, but brushed it of to the other boy being a good sport. Although Harry slowed down, Ron followed the wafting scent of bacon as if he hadn't eaten in days. Draco fell in step with Harry.

For a few moments, all that could be heard was the creaking of the stairs. Then...

"You know, you look good wet."

Harry ran for his life down the rest of the stairs, forced to take them two at a time to escape Draco, who was trying to strangle him.

………………………………............................................................................................

To the five children who were kept in the dark about Fred and George's little secret, the day was agonizingly slow. They would complete one task to glace at the clock and realize that a mere half hour had passed. Games of wizard chess, exploding snap, and Muggle card games that Harry and Hermione taught the others couldn't seem to make time move any faster. They were so bored that when Hermione suggested reading up on the material for the fall term, even Ron seriously considered it before sinking back into lethargy on the couch.

All that was seen of Fred and George was the occasional rushing in and out of the kitchen. Whenever someone walked in, they were grabbing food or something to drink. When someone knocked on their door, a mad scramble could be heard before the knocker was admitted. In all, it added to the heightened anticipation and made the day crawl by more slowly than ever.

Mrs. Weasley was extremely suspicious. Usually during the summer, her children would be energetic and bothersome, especially when friends were visiting. Therefore, the sight of five children loitering in her living room and her two most troublesome offspring behaving very furtively sent her maternal mischief radar through the roof.

Dinner was uncharacteristically quiet, the teens barely participating in the chatter that the adults used to keep the room from falling into silence. Mrs. Weasley tried very unsuccessfully to slip in a few prying questions, but never got a specific answer. During dessert, which several children were barely picking at, she finally snapped.

"What is going on?" she demanded, hands on her hips. Eyes flashing, she looked from child to child. "All day you've been almost silent. Even during the most boring parts of previous summers the house has never been as quiet as this, and you have guests! And you're not eating your dessert!" At this several of them shoved a few fork-fulls of apple pie in their mouths. "There's something you're hiding," her eyes flicked to Fred and George, "and it's bound to get you in trouble if you don't confess, now."

All four of the Weasley children who were in on, or at least given the heads up on, that night's rendezvous immediately put on expressions of utmost innocence. Draco looked as if the sudden outburst had frightened him (Harry was sure that he was faking it), and Harry and Hermione both stuffed so much pie in their mouths that it was impossible for them to make any facial movements except for chewing very, very slowly. Bill, who was still working a desk job for Gringotts so he could help the Order, immediately knew something was up but said nothing. Mr. Weasley just looked at the children very fiercely.

"Whatever is going on, it better be stopped immediately. For the past year, people have put their lives on the line to protect you children, and I don't want you to shatter all that hard work over your little plans. Someone could get hurt!" Mrs. Weasley paused as she saw Harry freeze mid-chew, his eyes glazing over.

"Harry? Harry, are you alright, dear?"

He nodded, but Harry wasn't alright.

__

He saw the mingled look of fear and surprise on his godfather's face as he fell through the ancient veil...

Shaking his head to rid himself of the memory, he looked up to find the entire table looking at him with concern. He swallowed his mouthful, which went down like a rock, and pushed away from the table.

"I... I don't feel good. I think I'm going to go lie down." Keeping his eyes averted, he felt sixteen eyes follow him up the stairs and out of sight, and then he broke into a run, barely making it to his room before the first sob came out.

__

No, do not do this. Sirius would not have wanted this. Sirius would want you to miss him, but he wouldn't want you to break into hysterics every time someone mentions his name.

Using this as a starting point, Harry eventually calmed himself down, although his breathing was still ragged. By the time Ron, Hermione, and Draco burst through the door, Harry was almost back to normal. _Or as normal as I'm bound to get_, he thought sardonically.

"You okay, mate?" Ron, shifting uncomfortably, was trying to read Harry's expression.

"Mum's in a right state- she thinks that you're deathly ill, the way you paled the moment she said-" He stopped mid-sentence, realizing what her words must have brought to Harry's mind.

Hermione sat down next to him and put her hand over his, her thumb stroking the back of his hand soothingly. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry. Do you need to talk about it?" she asked tentatively, afraid of sending him over the edge again. He shook his head, but welcomed the motherly touch. He lifted his head and met Draco's gaze, and suddenly wanted to throw himself in the pale boy's arms, but restrained himself. Instead he managed a small smile.

__

How the hell did I end up with friends this good? he asked himself. _I certainly don't deserve them._

After a long silence, Harry sighed and looked up.

"I'll be fine, really. I just lost control back there. Probably lack of sleep." Harry stood up, taken aback by the three worried gazes still appraising him. Now he was irritated. "Really guys, it was nothing, I'm fine," he said, impatience lining the edge of his tone. "What happened after I left?"

"Mum just flew off her rocker with worry about you, asking if you'd seemed sick earlier today or if she should come up here and see what was wrong with you. We were able to keep her in her seat, but she's still freaking out." Ron grinned. "You turned her attention away from the rest of us, and I have a feeling she won't remember that she's supposed to be suspicious until she's sure you're perfectly fine. Which, knowing Mum, might take a while."

Harry's smile broadened. "So we're still on for tonight?"

"Of course!" said two identical mouths in unison as the twins stuck their heads in, followed by the rest of their tanned bodies. Even though they had been working in the shop all summer, they had still found time to practice Quidditch, and it showed. They had been given some very appreciative glances lately, and neither was complaining.

"Did you think that Mum becoming suspicious would head us off?" asked George incredulously.

"She tried to head us off on the joke shop so many times we lost count. But thanks to you," Fred wrapped Harry in a brotherly bear hug, squeezing tighter when Harry squirmed and shouted into his shirt. "Thanks to you, all students at Hogwarts will be able to skive off classes when they get too boring!" He released Harry, who was now wearing a scowl identical to Draco's earlier one and straightening out his shirt and glasses. Everyone, minus Harry, was laughing, punctuated only by Hermione's grunt of disapproval at the words "skive off."

"And this is how you repay me?" demanded Harry with mock anger. "By shattering my rib cage and damaging internal organs?" He smiled at the twins. "You just better come up with some good things soon; I want to stop by the store before term starts and get enough to last me 'til Christmas holidays. Or at least the first Hogsmeade weekend, if we have them."

The twin's faces lit up.

"What do you mean, if we have them?" Ron blurted out. "They can't just take away

Hogsmeade visits, can they?" He was crestfallen.

"They sent us the permission slips, yes, but now with Voldemort on the loose, the Ministry might think that letting a bunch of kids run wild in a wizarding village without established supervision a tad dangerous," Hermione explained.

Ron just grunted and sat on the bed, sulking.

"Why'd the Dark Lord have to come back? Ruin a perfectly good visit to Honeyduke's…."

………………………………............................................................................................

"It's almost midnight," Hermione whispered. She and Ginny had snuck into the boy's room when they were sure the adults were sleeping.

"Where are your brothers?" Harry asked Ron in a hushed voice. "Whatever their 'surprise' is, it better not take to long. I want sleep."

Ron yawned. "I dunno, but I think I'm going to go back to bed . . ."

There was a soft knock at the door, then the twins poked their heads in.

"Ready?" one red head said. Harry couldn't distinguish between them in the dark. The same red head motioned for them to follow him, putting a finger to his lips to signal silence. Despite the precautions they took, a few stairs creaked, and there were muffled exclamations as toes were trod on and ribs elbowed.

Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, Fred and George ushered them into the kitchen, where they moved the rug in front of the sink, revealing an old trapdoor. Ron's and Ginny's mouths dropped open, which Harry took as a sign that neither of them had ever seen the trapdoor.

"Listen up," said Fred. "From this moment on, you are not allowed to repeat a single detail about what you see, hear, experience, etc. If you do, we'll know. And we'll kill you." He smiled sweetly. "Anything you'd like to add, George?"

George shook his head, wearing an expression identical to his twin's. "No, dear brother. Other than I'll raise you from the dead and kill you again after Fred's done with you if you utter anything about this to Mum or Dad. Any questions?"

"Yes." Ginny was excited, but very suspicious. "First question: What is down there and how did you find out about it?"

Fred was so impatient he was almost bouncing, so George answered. "It's the old cellar that was used when this place was part of a farm. Since our family doesn't need space to store preservatives and hang meat anymore, Mum threw a whole bunch of junk down here. She didn't see the passageway leading to the bigger rooms, though. We have no idea what they were used for."

"As to how we found out about it? George was going to hide a good deal of Percy's knickers under the rug, making a lump so noticeable that Mum would have to lift up the rug to see what was there and hopefully embarrass Percy, but we found this and abandoned the plan for a bit of exploring." Fred kept checking his watch. "Can we go now?"

"No. Second question: Why are you bringing us down here, and will there be blood?"

"Because we couldn't do this during the day when Mum could walk in at any time, and if we did it in the house at night she'd wake up and find us anyways. And no, there won't be blood." George frowned at Ginny. "If you don't want to do this, you can go back to bed."

Ginny glared at him. "I just wanted to know what I was getting myself into, that's all."

"Alright then, if we don't have anymore questions, let's go." George yanked open the door and turned around, lowering himself carefully into the hole. It was apparent that he was climbing down a ladder, and they heard a soft thud as he reached the bottom.

"Who's next?" he called up. "Fred's staying behind so he can close the door when the last person comes through."

The other five looked at each other. It was obvious that they were all unsure whether to stay or go. Surprisingly, Hermione stepped up first and climbed down, followed by Harry, Ron, Draco, Ginny, then Fred.

After the door was shut, George used _Lumos Maxima _to lead then through a very narrow passage into a fairly large chamber that was lit with large candles, had personal-sized cushions stacked against one wall, and was filled with their friends from Hogwarts. Naturally, almost everyone there was a Griffyndor. Last year's Quidditch team had been invited, along with all of the graduated Griffyndors, this years seventh, sixth, and fifth years, along with a few of Fred and George's younger acquaintances.

Draco felt very out of place.

Fred leaped up on the edge of a table that was filled with Butterbeer, pumpkin juice, a type of punch that had bright electrical pulses zooming through it, and bowls of different candies from Honeydukes. Adjacent to it was another table filled with cakes, pastries, cookies, and other sweets. Ron's eyes were shining with amazement, and Harry's mouth was watering profusely.

"Hey! Hey! Everyone, shut up a minute!" Fred jumped up and down, waving his arms. A little bit of the electric punch sloshed over the rim of it's bowl, causing the table to smoke. Harry made a mental note to stay away from that beverage.

The room had fallen quiet, and everyone was looking expectantly at Fred. Harry saw Seamus and Dean making their way over to them, and Lee was already standing by George. Angelina and Katie waved, and Harry waved back.

"Welcome to the cellar of the Burrow! What are we doing here at this lovely hour of the night, you may be asking yourself. Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes has produced a new line of party games, and tonight you will trying out two of them before they hit shelves. And, we've provided refreshments, so fill up! The first game will be a revised version of the classic Spin the Bottle, so all who would like to participate, grab a cushion and form a circle!"

Harry had played Spin the Bottle before, and had been humiliated enough without any enhancements. He was still deciding whether he wanted to do this or not when Draco's firm fingers grasped his wrist and pulled Harry down next to him.

"Don't tell me you were thinking about not playing?" Draco cocked an eyebrow. "After the infamous snog session you had with that looker Cho last year, Harry Potter is nervous

about a game of Spin the Bottle?"

Harry tinged pink. "I've never had very good luck with this game," he muttered, avoiding Draco's gaze. "After I kissed Cho, someone convinced me to play and everyone ended up trying to snog me. It was fairly embarrassing." His tinge became red.

"Wow. Maybe after tonight you'll become the Griffyndor sex god," Draco teased, snickering. "That would really give Chang a run for her money, wouldn't it?" Harry just fixed his attention on Ron, who was inhaling a plate of sweets. Much to Ron's chagrin, Harry nicked one and swallowed it. Immediately he turned bright pink.

__

Well, at least people can't tell I'm blushing anymore, he thought as he smacked Draco, who was laughing along with everyone else in the room. After a moment, his dye job began to fade.

As people turned to look at what was the cause of such an eruption of laughter, they started to notice a certain light-haired, fair-skinned Slytherin in their midst. Many started glaring at him and whispering things to their neighbors. Fortunately, Hermione picked up on this before things got too out of hand.

"For those of you who haven't heard, or haven't been informed, this summer a few of us became friends with Draco Malfoy. He's here tonight under peaceful terms," at this she glared at a few people who were scowling at Draco, "and you are to treat him as you would a fellow Griffyndor."

In response to the heated stares, Draco just smiled brightly and waved. This sent the scowlers into internal fits of rage, and those who weren't as haughty laughed.

Harry marveled at how easily Draco was able to stay relaxed and comfortable in a room full of people who, less than a month ago, were his sworn enemies. He asked Draco about it, and Draco grinned wickedly.

"Easy," he replied, leaning in close and dropping his voice so only Harry could hear. "If they try anything, my strong, overprotective boyfriend will kick their arse before they can beg for mercy."

Harry scowled. "I am not overprotective."

Draco just nodded. "Whatever you say, sweetheart." Harry's scowl deepened.

Draco was saved from a beating by George, who was standing in the center of the circle holding a silver bottle.

"You play this version just like you would any other version- you spin the bottle, and whoever it lands on, you kiss. But," he continued, an evil glint in his eye, "as soon as the bottle lands on your partner, a glowing line that resembles a string will form a bridge between your lips and your partner's lips. The intensity of the kiss is decided by the color of the string. Cooler colors, such as blue, purple, and green, mean shorter kisses. Red, obviously, is an extremely long, extremely passionate kiss. And black means that you have to have a full-on make-out session. The string will remain attached to both players until the kiss is fulfilled, and there is no way to take it off. Those who are now too scared to play, please back out of the circle."

No one moved.

George's grin widened. "Then let the game begin."

He sat down on his on cushion, set the bottle in the center, and spun it. The bottle rotated quickly, a silver blur until finally, it slowed down, ending on Katie.

Instantly a green thread formed between their mouths, and as George walked toward her it magically contracted.

"May I?" he asked, offering her his hand.

"I don't get much of a choice, do I?" she said, smiling. George leaned down and kissed her for a good ten seconds, then stood back up. The string was gone, and his cheeks were flushed.

Katie spun the bottle, watching it carefully, until it landed on Ginny. A yellow string sprung up between them, but they paid less attention to that than yelling at the twins.

"YOU DIDN'T TELL US IT WAS GIRL/GIRL AND BOY/BOY!"

"YOU'RE DOING THIS FOR YOUR OWN SICK AMUSEMENT!"

"THERE IS NO WAY I'M KISSING HER!"

"I AM NOT A LESBIAN!"

Fred and George were rolling around in laughter. "Every other game of spin the bottle you've played with us has been homo friendly, why not this one?" Fred managed. "It's not like you have much of a choice anyways- that string won't go away until you kiss."

Reluctantly the girls approached each other, identical looks of disgust contorting their faces. They leaned in and gingerly pressed their lips together for a few seconds, then pulled back.

The string was still there, but a much paler yellow than before.

"You still have a good ten seconds left, according to the string," called Fred.

Katie threw up her hands. "I will get you for this, Weasley." Turning to Ginny, she grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her in, kissing her fervently, then letting her go. The string was gone. Flustered, Ginny sat down, glaring at her brothers, and spun the bottle.

It landed on Dean, and a purple string appeared. Then Dean got Angelina, who got Fred (she bit him during their kiss as revenge for Katie), and Fred got Hermione. Ron didn't watch their kiss.

Then Hermione spun. The smile on her face turned to a slack mouth partially open in shock when the bottle landed on Ron and a red string attached itself to their lips. For a moment, the room was silent as they looked at each other with wide eyes, and then came the catcalls and whistles.

Ron blushed a red to match his hair, but Hermione had paled. Finally, Harry shoved Ron in Hermione's general direction, and they tentatively brushed their lips together.

"Hell Ron, it's red! It's going to take more than that!" Fred exclaimed.

Ron blushed a deeper red, but seemingly steeled himself. Then, he leaned in, wrapping his arms around Hermione's waist, and kissed her passionately. After the initial kiss, Hermione linked her hands around his neck and kissed back, letting her eyes close.

"Damn. Sure looks like they've had practice," Draco whispered to Harry. Harry didn't even nod- he couldn't. The sight of his two best friends making out had frozen him in his seat, his eyes as big as dinner plates.

Draco poked him in the ribs. "Enjoying the show?" he asked, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You seem unable to stop watching."

Harry moved his lips, but no sound came out. Luckily, he was saved by the breaking of the kiss as Ron pulled away from Hermione, his face now a deeper red than his hair. Both were grinning, and the string was gone.

The rude comments and teasing remarks followed them back to their cushions, where Ron spun the bottle again. He was shocked again, but recovered from the shock with disgust very quickly.

"I have to kiss Draco?" he asked, eyes widening in horror as he surveyed the blue string between them. "Merlin this is going to be so disgusting and will haunt me through the rest of my life."

"Thanks for the encouragement," Draco spat. He stood up and went over to Ron. "It's a good thing this is only blue, otherwise I'd have to commit suicide after this."

"For once, we agree on something," Ron said, defeat pulling at his shoulders. "Ready?"

"Whenever you are." Draco closed the space between them with a step forward, tilting his head upwards to meet Ron's mouth. They held the kiss for a few seconds, then broke apart, spitting as if to rid themselves of germs.

"Good Lord, you don't have cooties," said Ginny. "Grow up a bit."

Both boys glared at her. Draco stalked back over to his seat and spun the bottle again, fuming. His stomach rolled as it landed on none other than Harry. And, to top off his luck, a black string sprung between them.

It was as if a vacuum had sucked all air and sound out of the room. For a minute, Harry and Draco froze, then looked at each other, thinking the exact same thing:

__

Well, at least we've practiced for this.

The other players took their silence for shock, and the taunting was worse than it was for Ron and Hermione.

"Um, Fred, exactly how into this do we have to get for the string to go away?" Harry asked.

"Very." Fred smirked. "I suggest that if you want to be done anytime soon, you better hurry up."

Harry and Draco approached each other in the middle of the circle as the entire room held it's breath. Some onlookers felt that this is what Draco deserved for being here, even if it did mean Harry was subjected to him. Others felt sincerely sorry for both. Then, of course, were those who were turned on just by the thought of it. And there was Ron, who had shut his eyes and buried his face in his hands, too disgusted to even watch.

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's neck and leant in to whisper in his ear.

"So, are you interested?" he asked, nibbling on a pale earlobe.

"Very," came a response through two very flushed lips before they were pressed to Harry's. Immediately, Draco's hands were all over Harry, trailing from shoulders to chest to back, unable to stop feeling, searching for the one place that would flood Harry with pleasure.

As Draco began sliding his hands up Harry's shirt, he found it. Harry's sensitive spot was a small patch of skin right below his left nipple, and Draco expertly caressed it until he felt Harry moan. Their tongues continued to duel as Draco pushed Harry's shirt up, and to Harry's disappointment he broke the kiss, only to push Harry to the ground and start licking that one spot, the black string still attached to their lips.

__

Does that God damned thing ever go away? he thought furiously, running his hands down Harry's bare sides. _If this keeps up, we'll be at it all night. And I don't want to be a fucking exhibitionist_!

Draco parted his lips in an invitation, which Harry ignored, choosing instead to kiss and lick a trail down Draco's neck to his chest, where he started biting and scraping. He could feel Draco suppressing the moans that would embarrass them both if either of them uttered a sound, leaving them open for endless teasing.

Harry noticed the string had disappeared, although no one had bothered to tell him about it. He kissed his way back up to Draco's lips, left one last, long, lingering kiss there, and opened his eyes. He knew the rest of the players, even Ron were staring at them, but he just smiled at Draco, who smiled back.

"Interesting," he said casually, rolling off of Draco and standing up. He knew the rest would brush it off as a comment on the snog session, but Draco understood the full meaning and laughed. The Griffyndors that weren't staying with the Weasleys were shocked again- they had all heard Draco laugh, but at their pain, never along with someone.

All of a sudden, the two very flushed boys were aware of the looks they were attracting. Harry's shirt was still riding up, revealing a good strip of tanned stomach, and Draco's open shirt revealed the milky-white chest that Harry loved to run his hands over. They sat down, avoiding the hungry looks people were sending them. Harry spun, hoping against all odds he wouldn't get Seamus, who was looking at him as if he were dessert.

To his relief, the bottle landed on Ginny, and a yellow line forged between their lips. After sharing their kiss (Ginny winked at him afterwards, and Ron almost threw himself at Harry), Ginny spun again.

"WHY DO I HAVE TO GET ALL THE HORRID MATCHES?" she shrieked. The bottle had landed on Fred, who had turned an awful shade of green that almost matched the string between them.

"George, are you positive that there isn't a way to cut this thing apart?" he pleaded.

George, who was looking equally revolted, shook his head and looked away.

Fred and Ginny leaned in for the kiss, punching and scraping at each other. When they pulled away, both looked almost as repulsed as Ron and Draco had after their kiss, and neither would look at the other with anything but disgust.

Fred, who looked like he would rather be anywhere else at the moment, took his turn, and the bottle landed on his twin.

"HAH! Serves you right!" yelled Katie and Ginny in unison. Ron was torn between amusement and disgust.

"Feeling incestuous tonight, aren't we Fred?" taunted George as his fingers traced the red line between them. Fred smacked him, then leaned in and roughly kissed George, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. George returned the kiss, his hands cradling Fred's face until they broke apart. Fred pretended to swoon, and fell back into George's waiting arms in a dramatic faint.

Now it was Ron's turn to be green.

"You know, those Weasleys have more guts that I gave them credit for," Draco stated to Harry. "Honestly, I don't think I would ever kiss my siblings, if I had any. Not even goodnight. Too unnatural."

"Good thing I'm not your sibling then, eh?"

After a few more comedic rounds of the game in which there were a few good snogs and plenty of blushing, George snatched up the bottle and set it aside.

"Refreshment break!" he announced. "Everyone get something to eat or drink, then grab a seat for the new and improved version of Truth or Dare!"

There was a collective groan, followed by laughter and giggles. Ron had yanked Harry off his cushion to attack the snack table before anyone else, which left Harry as an open target to anyone who came up behind him. Unfortunately, it was Seamus.

"Hey Harry." Seamus was so close that the hairs on the back on Harry's neck stood up. His eyes widening slightly, Harry looked over his shoulder and greeted Seamus, randomly grabbing a cup so he could get out of there as soon as possible. He scooted through the crowd, ignoring exclamations as he stomped toes.

Flopping back down on his cushion, Harry took a gulp of the drink, and immediately felt as is he had swallowed fire. His eyes watered so much that he had to blink several times before he could see clearly again.

"Never took you for a firewhiskey drinker," Draco commented, gracefully sitting next to Harry. "Strong stuff, isn't it?"

"Merlin, yes," Harry choked, his throat still burning. Taking a closer look at the drink, which he had mistaken for punch, he realized that the little electrical flashes were actually fire. "Seamus was getting too close for comfort so I grabbed something and ran. Bad choice." But he raised the cup to his lips again, taking a much smaller sip than before. This time, the burning sensation was just a warm, pleasant tickling feeling.

__

This stuff isn't so bad, he thought, just as the last person sat down and the game began.

The main differences between the Muggle version and the Wizard version were the use of a very diluted Veritaserum and some concoction the twins had cooked up to make you do the dare you were given. If you answered truth, you were given a drop of Veritaserum; Dare, and you were given the peppermint flavored liquid.

Due to the presence of their little sister, Fred and George limited the raunchiness of the dares and truths permitted, to the disappointment of many players. And so the game began, with players admitting their darkest secrets and doing the weirdest dances. A few love letters were owled, a couple people kissed, and some almost died of embarrassment before Ginny and some of the other tired players decided to retire.

Then the game became much more dangerous. Questions so prying that even the interrogator blushed at the answer were asked, dares that were sworn never to be repeated, and then Draco was given the chance to get his revenge.

"Harry, truth or dare?" Draco asked, the look in his eyes making Harry wish he were anywhere but the Weasley's secret cellar.

"Um... Dare," he said, choosing what he hoped would be the safer option, since he had no intentions of spilling any secrets as of this point and time.

"Turn Weasley #6 on so that we can all see it."

Harry's jaw dropped in horror. He could read the expression in Draco's eyes, which was clearing stating that this was revenge for the shower. But Draco had overstepped the boundaries. Fred and George were looking at Draco with admiration.

"You did not just say that," Harry said, disbelieving. "Uh-uh. Not happening."

"I'm a Slytherin. Of course I said it, now do it." Draco shoved Harry over towards Ron.

"Don't I get a say in this?" Ron asked, backing away from a very red Harry. "I have to consent, right?"

"No, Ronniekins, you do what they tell you to. If you're not man enough to do it, go take a nap with Ginny." George was purposely taunting Ron to make him play, and it worked.

"I am not a bloody fifth year. I'm just not gay, alright?" Grudgingly he turned to face Harry, who was still standing uncomfortably in the center of the circle.

"Erm.. How do you want to... uh... do... this?" Harry asked, squirming under the gaze of everybody watching.

"I dunno, do you just wanna start snogging or something?" Ron jerked as he gave his answer, repulsed at is own suggestion. Harry just shrugged, but didn't move.

"I can't do this! He's my best friend!" Harry cried out, a look of total desperation registering itself on his face. "It's too... yuck."

"How eloquent. Now just get on with it." Draco was sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest and his elbows resting on his knees, observing the scene before him with mild interest.

__

Draco is going to die. Draco is going to die. Draco is going to die VERY FUCKING PAINFULLY! The mantra repeated inside Harry's mind with variations as he shuffled over to Ron, and tentatively leaned up and brought their lips together.

At first, Harry could feel Ron twinge and almost pull away, so he leant in further for reassurance. He was about to stop altogether from lack of response when Ron finally moved his mouth against Harry's.

After a while, Harry stood up, avoiding Ron's gaze, walked slowly over to his cushion, and sat down quietly, ignoring the jeers he was receiving from the male members of the game. He new that Ron had turned as red as when he had kissed Hermione, if not darker, and did not want to see. The girls had respectfully looked away from both him and Ron, feeling out of place in a very male situation.

The game went on, as all games do, until (to many's delight) so many people were yawning that they called it quits. With the wave of a few wands, the tables were cleared, the cushions disappeared, and the only sign of a party were the departing guests. Those who could disapparated, and the other left using an entrance that led to somewhere outdoors.

Harry yawned and stretched, his feet dragging as he plodded towards the ladder. Squeezing through the small passage and scrambling up the ladder, his eyes watered from fatigue, causing him to bump into the table on the way to the stairs.

"Whoa there, mate," whispered Ron, catching him by the elbow. "I'm guessing that the firewhiskey really got to you, eh?" He steadied Harry and helped him up the stairs.

"Look, Ron, I'm sorry . . ." began Harry, but Ron waved a hand to silence him.

"It's alright, it was just a dare, albeit a very embarrassing one. But isn't that the point of truth or dare, just to make a complete fool out of yourself?" Ron smiled. "Besides, it could have been worse. You could have had to do it to Seamus."

"Seamus wouldn't have taken as long to be stimulated." Harry ducked as Ron swung at him good-naturedly.

They both changed and fell into their separate beds without another word, too exhausted to waste oxygen on trivial words. Harry was almost asleep when Draco snuck in, the first rays of dawn slipping through the cracks in Ron's blinds. The dip in the bed as Draco added his weight to it brought Harry a bit closer to consciousness.

"Harry, you awake?"

"Yea."

"Go to sleep."

"Draco?"

"Hmm?"

"You're dead."

"Okay. G'night."

"Night."


	7. When It Rains, It Pours

"Harry," Ron called softly across the room, "you awake?"

"Yea, but Draco isn't," Harry whispered.

"Who cares if the ferret is awake or not. Let's go. I'm starving."

"Ron, I can't move."

"Too much firewhiskey?" Harry detected a note a amusement in Ron's voice and frowned.

"No, but Draco's got his arm wrapped around me and if I move, he'll wake up."

Ron raised an eyebrow at the sight of Draco clutching Harry, but wisely kept his mouth shut.

"I'll see you downstairs when he wakes up, then." Ron exited, leaving Harry free to slide his arm underneath Draco's sleeping form and pull him closer. Draco snuggled into Harry's t-shirt-clad chest, his soft lips curving in a delicate smile. Harry welcomed the extra warmth, breathing in the musky scent that surrounded Draco, and lightly running his fingers through the silky strands framing the milky face.

Merlin, he is beautiful. Harry smiled to himself as he let his fingertips graze over the skin that had the texture of rose-petals, soft and fragrant. _How could anyone who can put up_

such a cold, hard facade be this angelic?

But he's not angelic, said a voice in his head. _You have the bite marks to prove that._

Harry's smile widened at the memory, his breath coming a bit quicker as Memory Draco's tongue swirled circles over every inch of his skin.

"If you want to touch me, I prefer you do it in other, more sensitive places." Harry jerked out of his reverie, warm gray eyes gazing up into surprised green from somewhere near Harry's chest.

"Didn't realize you were awake," Harry said, the smile still playing on his lips. "I was going to let you sleep in."

"Judging by the amount of sunlight coming through that window, I'm pretty sure we slept in." Draco squinted, wrinkling his nose at the blinding shafts falling across his face. Harry thought he looked cute like that and laughed.

"What?" The half-innocent, half-put out expression Draco wore just sent Harry into set of laughs that came from deep within his chest, and Draco slid his hand over Harry's shirt to feel the vibrations.

"You look so adorable when you scrunch your nose up like that." Harry leaned his head to the side as Draco swiped at him.

"Poof," he muttered, snuggling still closer to Harry. "I'll have you know that you are probably the first person to ever call a Malfoy adorable and get away with it. We have been called beautiful, cold, heartless, and drop-dead gorgeous, but never adorable."

"Well, you're not a typical Malfoy, are you?" This time Harry ducked too late and was

tapped on the cheek.

"That was pathetic, Mr. My-Name-Means-Dragon-In-Latin." Draco reached up and whacked him harder, leaving a red mark. "Okay, fine, you can bitch-slap. Ten points to Slytherin- yeow!"

Draco had launched a full-scale tickling attack on Harry, knowing all of his sensitive spots from weeks of experience.

"Draco, stop, oh GOD! Please!" Harry gasped through giggles.

"If you like laughing at Malfoy's so much, then you should be enjoying this." Draco put on his most innocent look and pouted, going for Harry's ribs. "Isn't that what you want, for me to touch you?"

"I, oh, Malfoy, please stop! Please oh please oh-"

"Are you begging him?" George asked, apparating into the room. Fred immediately appeared beside him.

"I-ye GODS Draco that, stop!- victim maniac," were the only words the twins were able to decipher through laughter. To their disappointment, Draco stopped torturing Harry, who was having trouble breathing now and still breaking out into sporadic giggles.

"Anyways, once you two sleepy-heads actually get your arses out of bed and get something to eat, we're going to have a game of Quidditch. Care to join us?"

Harry and Draco both leapt off the bed, tangling in each other and landing in a heap on the floor.

"Last one to the bathroom holds the game up!" Draco taunted, racing towards the bathroom. Harry flew after him, but was met with the door slamming in his face and Draco's elated laughter.

Harry grinned. Draco didn't have a change of clothes with him, and was going to have to walk back to the room wearing nothing but a towel. And Harry wasn't going to bring him anything to wear.

Judging from the groan that was emitted on the other side of the door, Draco realized that, too.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So who plays what?" asked Ginny.

"Seeker!" Harry and Draco called out in unison, leering at each other. They might have become friends, but the intensity of their Quidditch rivalry hadn't diminished.

"Wow, as if that wasn't obvious," Ron muttered under his breath. "I'll be a keeper."

"Chaser," said Ginny.

"Keeper," Hermione said, almost reluctantly. They had all dragged her out here and convinced her to play, despite her hatred for flying.

"We'll be chasers," said the twins.

"Chaser," said Bill, running out to the group. "I'll play with Ginny."

"Hey! Not fair!" exclaimed George. "There's no way we can beat you!"

Bill smirked.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" asked Fred, frowning.

"Brought it home with me. Now are we going to play, or not?"

They all mounted their brooms and took off, Hermione wobbling a bit until she balanced out. A practice Quidditch set was brought out, and as the Weasleys couldn't afford a full one, there were no bludgers. Instead of hoops, Bill levitated three baskets on either side of their expansive yard, each at a different height. The golden snitch was not-so-golden, instead being made of stainless steel.

Surprisingly, Draco made no comment, just hopped on his broom and did a few warm-up laps, relishing the feeling of the sun warming his back, his first time spent outdoors in weeks. He looked about for Harry, and spotted the raven haired boy going through a series of twists, dives, loops, and feints, his face split by a grin of pure ecstasy.

God he's hot. And Harry Potter on a broomstick, mmmhmmm. Draco snapped himself out of his fangirl-like obsession._ Keep goggling like that and Weasley may get the chance to nail you,_ he thought at himself.

After they gave Hermione a few minutes to get comfortable on her broom, they began to play. Harry figured that the Weasleys had been practicing this summer: Ron was making some unbelievable catches, and Ginny darted past her twin brothers with agility to match Angelina's and Katie's.

Harry took his usual spot high above the field. He watched Ron, Fred, and George (his team members) battle furiously in offense and defense, keeping his eyes peeled for the

snitch.

Draco, on the other hand, was slowly skirting the perimeter, gaze lazily roving about for any sign of the winged ball. He smiled as the wind cut through his muggle clothes, chilling the blonde and making him shiver. Draco loved the feeling, the anticipation, the adrenaline rush as they searched for the evading snitch. He especially loved playing against Harry, the extra challenge it brought.

Not to mention that every time Draco had stared into those piercing green eyes for the past three years, something inside him awoke, drawing him towards Harry. Yet he never recognized the feeling. A whole new sensation, akin to nothing he had felt before, would engulf him, and out of fear, he would sneer and insult, hiding his nervousness and confusion.

But all it had done was made Harry loathe him and shunt Draco further away from this boy who changed something in him.

Harry had, for the first time, made Draco experience love.

But, love or no love, Draco was still ticked at never winning one sodding match against the Gryffindor. Yes, he loved to watch Harry as triumph filled him and his elation was absorbed by his teammates. But Draco was still a Malfoy, and he wanted to win.

The Slytherin spared at glance at Harry, who was scrutinizing the other players as he hovered at the opposite end of the field. The others were faring pretty well, making great saves and sneaking goals past the keepers. Even Hermione was smiling and having fun.

Then Draco saw the snitch. Unfortunately for him, so did Harry.

The dark silver ball was flitting through the shadows cast by the floating baskets, but took off as the seekers sped towards it. They spun, twisted, and maneuvered their way after it, flying head to head as they came closer and closer, the ball just beyond their fingertips-

Draco smiled as he felt the beating of the snitch's wing within his closed hand.

Wait. Wing?

He looked down, and saw the other wing being gripped steadfastly in Harry's clenched fist, then looked up at Harry. Simultaneously, they stopped their brooms and burst out laughing, collapsing onto the ground. Luckily, they had only been three feet above it.

"So does that make it a tie?" Harry wiped at the tears running down his face, still chuckling.

"Nope," said Draco, smiling innocently. Harry's face contorted into one of shock.

"What?"

"We have to see who's team scored more points before we caught it. Then we see who wins."

"Oh, right," said Harry as he stood up, wiping away the shredded grass that clung to his clothes. He marveled at how Draco, who had been on the ground just as long as he had, was almost spotless and just a tad windswept.

He looks good rumpled. Almost like he looks after we snog. Harry indulged himself in memories for a moment.

"Harry? Wipe that stupid grin off your face. You look like Weasley did last night after he snogged Granger."

Harry, annoyed at being taken away from Memory Draco for the second time that morning, suddenly remembered the events of the past twenty-four hours.

"Draco?" Harry asked sweetly, stepping behind Draco.

"Hmm?" Draco was examining his clothes, double-checking for grass stains.

"What the _hell_ was last night all about?" Harry yelled, causing Draco to spin around and come face to face with his seething boyfriend.

"Um, well, I..." Draco stammered, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. He had known Harry wouldn't be happy about it, but he didn't realize that he was going to fly into a rage.

Harry just stood there, glaring in all his angered glory, arms crossed over his chest and snitch still clutched by one wing in his right hand.

"I'm waiting for an answer."

"Can I take a rain check?" Draco hoped his innocent smile would soften Harry.

No such luck.

"I understand that you were mad about the shower. And that you don't like Ron. But _nothing_ gave you the right to do that to both of us!" Harry's voice was cold as ice, quiet and deadly.

It reminded Draco vividly of his father in the calm few moments before he would be beaten.

Instinctively Draco backed up, throwing his hands over his head, squeezing his eyes and clenching his jaw, waiting for the harsh touch to come.

But when the touch came, it was comforting and warm, so much unlike the hand of his father. Draco felt his arms being lowered and opened his eyes.

They were reflected back to him in Harry's glasses.

"Draco, you alright?" Harry's worried gaze raked Draco's face. "You didn't honestly think I'd hit you, did you?"

Draco shook his head, avoiding looking directly at Harry's face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, I was just mad. Forgive me?"

"Oh stop sniveling, Harry. It just reminded me of . . . times at the manor." Draco picked up his broomstick and headed off in the direction of the floating baskets, where the other players were waiting for them. "Wanna see who won?"

It turned out that even with Bill on Hermione and Ginny's team, overall Fred and George had scored more goals, and once again Draco lost the match to Harry.

"Am I ever going to win a Quidditch match against you?" Draco fumed on their way back into the house. "We both catch the bloody snitch and I still lose!"

"He's Harry Potter, mate. You'll never beat him," said Fred, clapping Draco on the back.

"But look on the bright side- at least when you comb your hair it does something." Fred

smirked at Harry, who just shrugged back.

"Hey, if it's not going to lie flat, I'm not going to bother with it."

"Ever think of using hair gel?" Draco suggested.

"Hey! We could all try to get Harry's hair to behave!" Ginny exclaimed. "Draco, you do have some stuff, right?"

"I picked up some in Diagon Alley." Draco grinned.

Harry's eyes widened in horror. "There is no way any of you are going near my head. No. Not happening." He backed away from the group, the girls eyeing the mess on top of his head.

Eventually the walk back to the house became a chase for Harry, who had to run for his life for the second time in two days. Luckily he made it to the bedroom and shut the door moments before the others slammed into it, knocking and shouting at Harry to let them in.

Harry lay back on the bed, panting. He had no intention of letting anyone touch his hair, and he was safe as long as the door remained shut.

Oh shit, he thought. _The twins..._

There was a loud crack beside him, and two grinning faces leant into view.

"Hope you got your beauty sleep."

"Doesn't quite look like it."

"Hey!" said Harry, sitting up. "I know I'm not drop dead gorgeous or anything, but I'm not that bad."

"Well, after those little displays with Ron and Draco last night, we think you may have a few more admirers than before."

Harry blushed profusely, but kept his mouth shut, as he couldn't think of anything to say.

"So, ready for your make over?"

"I'm not going out there."

"Then we'll let them in here."

Harry groaned and lay back on the bed, squeezing his eyes shut. He heard the inevitable sound of the door being opened and the thunder of footsteps as Ginny rushed over to his bed, dragged him out of it, and sat him in a chair.

"You're going to love this!" she squealed.

Harry seriously doubted that.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

An hour and a bottle of hair gel later, Harry was dragged into the bathroom to view his new look.

"So, what do you think?" Ginny asked, holding her breath.

Harry was impressed. The style wasn't anything like the disaster he had been expecting. In fact, it looked really good. Ginny had started out with trying to make his hair behave, but that hadn't worked. So Hermione tried a new look, taming the hair by going with it's natural untidiness, and using a lot less gel than Ginny had. Draco had sat on the bed making comments and throwing out some ridiculous suggestions. He had been smacked quite a few times.

"I like it," Harry said truthfully. He brought a hand up to feel the stiff locks, but Hermione slapped it away.

"I did not just spend half an hour fixing your hair for you to punch it flat. Hands off."

Draco shook his head. "You are every fashion junkie's nightmare."

The twins apparated in, landing on top of Ron's bed, where Ron was reading one of Harry's new Quidditch books.

"Gerrof!" and "Ouch, you bimbo!" were heard coming from the pile of appendages and red hair.

"You two can't ever do anything normally, can you?"

"Well, we thought you'd might want to see this as soon as possible," George said, looking

grim. Fred held out a copy of that day's Daily Prophet, which Hermione leapt for first. She paled as she read the headlines, sitting down on the bed next to Draco in shock.

"Oh, _shit_," said Draco. "Shit shit shit shit _shit_."

The rest of the room, minus the twins, either piled onto the bed or behind it, desperately trying to glimpse the headlines.

Harry felt the bottom fall out of his stomach as he scanned the paper. The inevitable had happened.

"What does it say?" asked Ron, who couldn't see. Hermione began to read aloud.

__

WIZARDING WORLD OFFICIALLY AT WAR

Although we have been warned of the second Rise of the Dark Lord since the beginning of summer, writes Rita Skeeter, special correspondant, _it wasn't until this morning that the Ministry of Magic declared war against Lord V--------._

"We knew it was coming," says Albus Dumbledore, recently reinstated Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was not destroyed fourteen years ago, as many presumed, and was therefore given the opportunity of becoming whole once more." Dumbledore, who has insisted that The Dark Lord returned after a nasty ending to the Triwizard Tournament one year ago, is now a very popular choice for the vacant spot of Minister of Magic.

"There's more to it," Hermione said. "This edition is completely devoted to it. They re-ran some of the articles we saw at the end of last year, as well as Harry's 'exclusive' interview, all that junk. We've been at war. Now it's just official."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

During supper Mr. Weasley announced that since war had been declared, the children were now going to spend the summer at a much safer place than the Burrow.

"Since five Order members now reside here," he said, including the newly inducted Fred and George, "the Burrow is not a safe place for you five to spend the summer. We will all be spending the remainder of the summer at 12 Grimmauld Place. No arguments accepted, no exceptions."

Ron and Ginny immediately burst out into "That's not fair!" and "We don't want t be stuffed inside that old place all summer!" Eventually Mrs. Weasley began to border on a yelling fit, and they stopped abruptly.

"It's for your own safety. Now, hurry up and get packed. We leave tomorrow morning. The five of you who can't apparate will be flooing to a wizarding family down the street, then walking over." She continued to outline the plans, reminding them that they'd have to exercise caution. After an exhausting run through, she finally freed them. As if they had previously agreed, all the kids, plus the twins, gathered in Ron's room.

"This is all happening too quickly," Ron said with a sigh.

Draco shrugged. "When it rains, it pours."

"I guess. Harry, you all right?" Harry shrugged.

Twelve Grimmauld Place. Sirius's home. Well, not home, but house. The place where Sirius had given him the mirror. Where Sirius had kept Buckbeak. Buckbeak, whom Harry and Hermione had helped rescue, and who had helped them rescue Sirius.

Harry didn't know how he could go back without reliving every moment spent with Sirius. And the reliving meant pain.

But then again, staying there might be a good chance for him to come across Sirius's old things. And Harry was desperate for anything that could link him to his godfather.

"Yea, I'm fine," he said in a tone that convinced the others he was anything but. They didn't push, though. "I'm just really exhausted. Little sleep, Quidditch, the war . . ."

"Firewhiskey . . ." added Ron.

Harry threw a pillow at him.

"Yea, I'm going to bed. So out." Harry pushed everyone off his bed and out into the hallway, shut the door, and locked it before he realized something.

"Hermione, what do I do about the gel in my hair?"

"You have to wash it out."

"Oops." Harry unlocked the door, grinning sheepishly, and proceeded to the bathroom.

__

This stuff makes my hair crunchy, he thought as he ducked his head into the sink, the gel becoming slimy once more as he worked it out of his dark hair. _And I liked how it looked, but I am not getting up that early to look good. That's Draco's department_.

Padding back down the stairs, he realized that everyone had either gone their rooms or had gone to bed, but no one was wandering the halls. In Ron's room, his roommates were slipping under the covers, and Draco scooted over as Harry followed him into bed.

"Night guys," called Ron as he blew out the candles.

"'Night," responded Harry and Draco in unison.

After their silent goodnight peck, Draco fell into dreamland fairly quickly.

Hours passed. Harry heard Hedwig, Errol, and Pig flying around outside. Thunder shook the house as a storm gathered overhead, the rain being withheld in favor of the making the air so heavy and thick that even breathing was difficult.

Finally Harry gave up and rolled out of bed. Taking caution as not to wake anyone, he snuck through the house, silently opening the back door and walking out to the middle of the pseudo-Quidditch pitch. There he lay down and gazed at the swirling clouds above him, frequently backlit with jagged slices of lightning.

He lay there for a long time, sorting through the many thoughts that plagued him. So much had happened so quickly that by the time he grasped one thought, it had grown thousands of little branches and posed many more questions.

__

Life is giving me a very, very painful headache right now.

Suddenly, Harry sensed a change around him. He sat up, looking around for any sign of something different. Seeing nothing, he was about to lay back down when he saw the dim silhouette of a figure moving straight for him.

__

Shit. I'm out here all alone, we're at war, and I'm number one on Voldemort's most wanted list. I am dead as a doornail. If I ever escape Voldemort alive, Mrs. Weasley is going to skin me, murder me, then raise me from the dead to do it all over again.

Harry belly-crawled about five feet when a voice froze him in his tracks.

"Harry Potter, you were never good at sneaking around without the invisibility cloak at Hogwarts, and you still suck here."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he realized it was only Ron.

"What are you doing out here at this ungodly hour?" Harry asked his best friend.

"Watched you come out here through my window. Gave you about fifteen minutes, and when you didn't come back, I came after you." Ron plopped down next to Harry and stretched out, hands pillowed behind his head.

"It's strange, isn't it?"

Harry turned to look at Ron. "What's strange?"

"The way life works. People come and go, things happen that you have no control over.

No matter how hard it seems, you're always able to go on. And just when you think one thing is over, something else happens."

"Anything in particular you're talking about?"

"The war." Ron sighed audibly at this and turned on his side to face Harry. "It all just seems so surreal, all the battles against him and shit for the past five years. Yet here we are, on the brink of a war that will almost certainly involve us, and I don't feel a thing."

Harry studied the sky, thinking over Ron's words. He was the same way: the news of the war hadn't affected him at all.

"Maybe we're not as surprised by all this because we've been at war with Voldemort for years already." Harry saw Ron shiver out of the corner of his eye at the dreaded name.

"That, and the whole gravity of the situation just hasn't sunk in yet. But the war can't do too much to us. We'll be in school, and maybe someone else will be able to get Y-You-know-who before he can get to you now that the Ministry is looking for him."

Harry felt his stomach flip. Despite all they had been through, Harry still hadn't told anyone, not even Draco, about the prophecy. And he wasn't going to worry Ron by telling him now.

"You okay mate?" Harry looked up at Ron's words. "You've been kinda quiet lately, withdrawn. Almost distant. Is there something you want to talk about?"

__

Let's think. 1) The last person I considered family died, and no one really seems to care. 2) I have to kill Voldemort, or he has to kill me, no buts about it. 3) I'm gay, having a secret relationship with Draco, but I know that if I tell you you'll flip out and probably never speak to me again.

"Nothing really. Things just seem so strange lately. Nothing is what it used to be anymore." Harry looked over at Ron. "I'm sorry."

Rat sat up, incredulous. "About what?"

"For bringing you into this whole Voldemort mess, for making your family a perfect target, for always relying on you to get me out the messes I'm in, all the stuff that comes with being the best friend of a celebrity." Harry practically spat the last word, a wave of bitterness washing over him.

"It's not your fault you are who you are," Ron said patiently, propping himself up on his elbows. "As for my family, they were in the Order before we were born, remember? And I think you have the messes turned around- you're usually saving my ass."

A weak smile worked its way onto Harry's face, and Ron fell back onto the grass beside Harry.

They lay there in silence until the cool raindrops began to patter around them, softly kissing their skin and crescendoing into a beating torrent.

"Maybe we should go in," Ron yelled over the roar. He tried to stand up but slid in the slick mud and fell right back on his bottom.

"Well, if we could stand up, we would!" Harry called back, laughing as he struggled to his feet, shaking the water droplets out of his eyes. He had to take off his glasses- he couldn't see anything when they were coated in water. Immediately everything was one large blur with random color changes.

"Ron! Where are you?"

Harry saw a large image off to his right coming nearer and turned towards it.

"Ron! That you?"

"No, I'm down here you dimwit!" Harry felt something tugging at his pyjama bottoms and looked down to see Ron using Harry's legs to pull himself up.

"Then what's that?"

Ron turned towards the oncoming figure, frozen in shock. Both boys stared, unable to move, wandless, as it steadily approached them, looming ever higher as it got closer.

"Harry?" squeaked Ron, clutching his best friends forearm.

"Yea?" Harry could barely make the air pass through his lungs.

"If I die, tell 'Mione that I love her, ok?"

"What makes you think it'll kill you without killing me?"

"Oh, right."

"We're screwed."

By now the figure had drawn up to the boys and stood a good six inches above Ron's head. Slowly it raised it's strong, muscular arms, arms Harry knew could wring his neck in an instant, and drew back the hood of it's long black cloak.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING OUT HERE?"

Harry felt his knees grow weak with relief as he saw that it was only Bill. A livid, raging, very unhappy Bill.

"Merlin, Bill, you scared us," breathed Ron, letting go of Harry. "We thought for a minute that you were a dementor or something."

"I could just as well have been!" Bill grabbed Ron by the upper arm and pulled him so that they were face to face. "Maybe you didn't hear the news, Ron, but we're in the middle of a bloody war! You could have been killed!" He threw Ron backwards into Harry, who caught him.

Harry thought he might have rather faced a dementor, seeing as Bill was bordering a Mrs. Weasley yelling fit.

"And of all people," Bill continued, rounding on Harry, "I'd think you would know how dangerous it is to be out here without any guards! You're both flaming idiots!"

"Bill, I . . . I'm sorry," stammered Ron, mouth agape. "I wasn't thinking."

"Damn right you weren't thinking!" Bill presented a very frightening figure when angry, his long damp hair clinging to his flushed jaw line, eyes flashing. "I didn't set wards up all around this property just to have them go off because you two don't give a shit about life

or death. Now get in the house!"

Ron and Harry quickly did what they were told, rushing back to the house as quickly as was possible given the weather conditions. They waited on the porch for Bill, who performed a few quick cleaning and drying spells on them all, and stepped inside.

"Sit down." Harry and Ron stopped on their way to the stairs. "Come on, I'll make some hot chocolate. You guys must be freezing."

After the initial scrape of chairs, the silence was only broken by the clanking of mugs and sounds of liquids being poured and measured until Bill joined them at the table, three steaming cups of chocolate in hand. He also passed out small chunks of chocolate, and plunked his in his drink to melt.

The pattering of rain on the kitchen windows was relaxing, and soon, with the help of the chocolate, Harry was feeling very relaxed, warm, and content.

"What were you guys doing out there?"

Harry and Ron glanced at each other and smiled, which gave Bill the wrong impression.

"Are you two . . ." he asked, eyes wide.

"Hell no!" exclaimed Ron, horrified. "Harry's my best mate and all, but we are not . . . like that."

Bill chuckled and ruffled Ron's lengthening hair. "Just checking little bro. You never know these days."

"Thinking," Harry said quietly.

"What about it?"

"That's what we were doing out there. Thinking. And talking. About the war." Harry studied the vapors rising from his chocolate, his hands wrapped around the warm

porcelain for warmth. "Do you think it'll effect Hogwarts?"

Bill thought for a moment before answering. "You all will have to be careful this year. You've overcome one of the biggest hurdles: interhouse friendships. The fact that you befriended Malfoy of all people was a big step. But it'll be dangerous."

Harry's head snapped up. Bill held up a hand to silence him.

"We don't know what the other Death Eaters have said to their children. We don't even

know what Malfoy Sr. Has reported to the other Death Eaters. You-Know-Who knows, that's a definite. But there may be children of the Dark Lord's servants in other houses as well. We don't have the full roster."

"So basically we can't trust anyone at school and we always have to watch our backs?" Ron asked, a frown twisting his face. "This is really starting to become depressing."

Bill laughed sardonically. "Welcome to war, little brother."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Boys! Get up now before I have to come in there and drag you to Grimmauld Place in your pyjamas!" called Mrs. Weasley's voice up the stairs at a quarter past eight the next morning. "And no, Ronald Bilius Weasley, you may not have five more minutes!"

"Alright Mum! Don't exhaust the exclamation marks!" Ron yelled back as he rolled out of bed.

"I have officially not slept well for days," yawned Harry, stretching as he blinked the moisture from his eyes. "What time did we get to bed last night?"

Draco, who was still lying on his stomach, frankly couldn't care less about why Harry had left the bed and come back hours later, because from his position he had a perfect view right up Harry's shirt. And he was enjoying what he saw very much.

"Wait, is that . . . sausage? I'm up!" Harry scrambled out of bed, to Draco's disappointment, and Draco scrambled for one of Harry's warm pillows.

__

I could get used to this whole wake up to Harry and the smell of breakfast thing.

"Aren't you going to come down and get something to eat?" Ron asked, pulling on a jumper over his shirt. "Mum's going to make you eat something, and warm food is always better than dry toast."

Draco grunted in consent and pushed himself off the bed, hands fumbling for clothes. Harry unceremoniously dumped a wrinkled shirt and an old pair of jeans in his hands.

"They smell," he complained groggily, still ticked about losing his view of Harry's chest.

"_Detergeo_." Instantly the clothes were as fresh as if they had just been washed.

"Show off," Draco muttered, tossing his pyjama top aside and shrugging into the dark blue shirt Harry had given him. "Know a spell for everything, don't you?"

"Comes from being friends with 'Mione for five years." Harry had alwready finished getting dressed and was waiting for Draco, who seemed to be taking forever in changing pants.

"Could you take those off any slower?" Harry questioned impatiently. "Ron's going to eat all the sausage."

"You want to help get them off?" Draco asked coyly, raising an eyebrow and licking his lips seductively. Harry flushed, shoving Draco playfully on the arm.

"Don't try it, it's too early." Harry crossed his arms and tapped his foot as Draco took his sweet time in getting dressed, sweet time in which Harry spent looking very pointedly at said changer's behind.

"You know you like it," Draco said as he kissed Harry lightly on the mouth. "You can't resist."

"No, I can't." Harry slid an arm around Draco's waist and brought him in for a deeper kiss, in which Harry let his hands snake down to the aforementioned arse.

"Come on," Harry said, breaking away. "I'm starving."

After scarfing down a quick breakfast and throwing the last schoolbooks and belongings in their trunks, the children were ready to leave for Grimmauld place.

"Now remember, the family's name is Laurolyl, and they'll show you the way to headquarters. Act like normal kids, don't draw any suspicion to yourself, and don't call each other by name in public." Mrs. Weasley was wringing her hands in worry, the skin red where she kept rubbing it.

"Mum, we'll be fine," Ginny reassured her mother, embracing her in a strong bear hug. "We'll see you in a bit, alright?"

One by one the five Floo-traveling children disappeared in a pillar of green fire, and landed inside a homely living room that looked anything but wizarding. The walls were covered in a flowery wallpaper with a white wooden border separating one third from the rest that circled the entire room. The fireplace they had stepped out of was rather large, and directly in front of it was a dark oaken coffee table, two overstuffed chairs, and a brown leather couch. Harry couldn't help but feel relaxed as he spotted Mrs. Laurolyl standing in front of a table full of pictures of what Harry presumed to be the family.

"Glad you dears made it safely. Now, if you'll follow me this way, we can grab a glass of ice tea before we set off for your final destination."

Ron grinned at Harry as they followed their hostess into the kitchen, which was just as welcoming as the living room. Mrs. Laurolyl was a plump woman obviously around Mrs. Weasley's age, plus a few gray hairs, and was also just as bubbly and full of laughter.

"You two must be Weasleys- the hair gives it away," she said to Ron and Ginny as she poured the drinks. "You, of course, are the ever famous Harry Potter, and I don't know either of you," she said eyeing Harry, Draco, and Hermione, who hastened to introduce themselves.

The next few minutes found the children conversing openly with this friendly woman, who took pleasure in refilling drinks as glasses were drained. Draco thought to himself that it was a good thing she wasn't a bartender- all the patrons would go home completely wasted.

When the children's thirst had finally been sated, they proceeded down the street and around a few corners, each step of Harry's filling him with more anticipatory dread. At last they appeared in between 11 Grimmauld Place and 13 Grimmauld Place.

"Now think children."

Harry thought about the address automatically, and no sooner had the thought "twelve" popped into his mind than did images of Sirius, Buckbeak, and various scenes from the past summer.

And the veil . . .

"Harry, we're going in now," Ginny said as she waved her hand in front of Harry's face.

"You going to be okay?" Ron asked as Hermione sent him a compassionate glance. Harry felt the hand on the small of his back and turned to see Draco looking at him concernedly. The small touch may have seemed platonic to the others, but it was all the comfort Harry needed to face his memories.

"Yea. Let's go." He stepped up and knocked on the door once, since none of them knew what spells or charms were used to open it, and they all waited with bated breath.

Ever so slowly, the door opened to reveal their Potions Master, reveling in all his greasy glory as usual. He stepped aside to allow them in, then closed the door with a bang. His keen eyes took in every detail, from Harry's pale skin to the addition of his favorite pupil.

With a wry smile he turned and walked off.

"What a nice house-warming," Ron said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "How come he always has to be here?"

Just then the twins came hurtling down the stairs and threw themselves at the group.

"So glad you're here," said George breathlessly as he crushed Ginny in a hug.

"Couldn't have survived without you," Fred exhaled as he wrapped his arms tightly around Ron.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ron was struggling to escape the death bind, but it wasn't doing much good.

"We snuck some dungbombs into the toilet upstairs."

"And we figure that if we're attached to somebody other than each other, Mum won't hex us as bad."

These words just made Ron and Ginny squirm more.

"Different house, same twins," muttered Hermione. "It never ends."

"Yes, but life would be so boring without us, wouldn't it?" grinned Fred.

"Yea, but it'd be quieter." Harry ducked as Fred swung at him.

They may have changed locations, but Harry felt as if the rest of the summer was going to be as interesting as the beginning.


	8. Good Talk Between Old Friends

Harry soon found out that living in the Order's headquarters wasn't as interesting as he had expected it to be. Just like the summer before, the adults refused to give them any information about goings on.

But thanks to Gred and Forge, Harry and company found out everything, which really wasn't much.

"I swear!" George cried out one evening when the adults had shunted everyone out of the kitchen.

"Yes, you do," Fred cut in.

"Shut it, you. As I was saying," he said in huff as he glared at his twin, "the Order isn't doing anything! We're at war, and they don't have one bloody plan as to what we're going to do!"

"Maybe," Hermione suggested, peeking over the top of her Arithmancy book, "they aren't saying anything to either of you because they know you're passing it right on to us."

Fred and George just stared at her, mouths agape.

"She got you that time," Draco said. "Most likely they have some grand battle plan that involves every single one of us, but they won't bother to ask our consent until it means life or death. Just like all adults do."

Harry laughed hollowly. _Draco really has no idea,_ he thought. _He doesn't have to kill Voldemort._

"Harry? You there mate?" Ron was waving his hands on front of Harry's eyes again. "Spaced out for a second?"

"Yea, just thinking," Harry replied distantly.

"He's been doing that a lot lately," Fred whispered to George. Harry didn't notice.

They spent the rest of the evening moving in between silence and a stressed chatter. After the subject of the oncoming war, no one really had much to say, and each was content to keep his or her thoughts private.

"So, what did you get on your O.W.L.'s, 'Mione?" Ron said, breaking another silence. "Straight O's, right?"

Harry vaguely remembered a post owl coming with a bundle of letters earlier in the day, accompanied by Hermione's exclamations of, "Thank Merlin they're here! The results are late!" and Ron's groans as his mother intercepted his letter. Harry's was still on his dresser in the same room he had stayed in the summer before, unopened.

Harry suddenly realized that everyone was looking at him expectantly.

"Hmm?" he asked.

"I said, what did you get on your O.W.L.'s?" Hermione was looking at him oddly. "Are you sure you're alright? Are you sleeping well?"

"Er, I didn't sleep too well last night," he admitted.

"Or the night before, or the night before that," Ron interjected. "You haven't gotten a decent night's sleep in over a week. We can hear you moving around," he added by way of explanation.

"Maybe you should ask Mrs. Weasley or Professor Snape for a sleeping potion," Hermione suggested.

"Snape would probably try to poison him," Ron argued. "But I think my mum has some asphodel in the store cupboard."

"Oh yes, let's brew the Drought of Living Death, shall we? Harry will definitely get his rest then," Draco drawled from his position on the bed. "Let's try something a tad less potent, hmm? Don't want the Golden Boy to be asleep when Lord Voldy comes in the night."

"WILL YOU ALL JUST STOP IT? I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF!" Harry stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Draco and Ron rose to go after him, but were stopped by the twins.

"Harry needs some alone time right now," George said, setting a struggling Ron back down in a chair.

"Well, he can be alone, and I'll be alone with him!" Draco countered, attempting to bite Fred's hand on his shoulder as it guided him back to the bed.

Hermione shook her head. "Just because you two are too simple to feel more than one emotion doesn't mean Harry is," she started to explain, but Draco cut her off.

"Too simple! I am not simple! I have had to deal with Voldemort practically breathing down my back since I was born-"

"Oh shut up," Fred interrupted, placing hand over. "Let the girl speak." At his words, Draco attempted to bite Fred's hand, but Fred just arced his fingers away from the sharp teeth.

Glaring at Draco, Hermione started again. "Harry's not just another teenager. You should know that, especially you, Ron." At this, she directed a pointed stare at the gangly redhead on her right, who immediately looked abashed. "Right now, he's battling severe depression, and it's especially hard since he's living in a house full of memories. He blames himself for Sirius' death-"

"Pssh, that's a load of rubbish!" Ron cried, wincing at the sound of a door being slammed.

"Why would he do that?"

"And people call me a git," Draco muttered. Fred smacked him upside the head.

"And he told you all this?" Ron interrupted again, "but didn't tell me?"

"No, but if you'd open your eyes and use the brain inside that thick skull of yours, you would have noticed it too." Hermione's exasperation was apparent as her shoulder's sagged. "He's keeping a secret from us, I can feel it."

Draco squirmed uncomfortably at her words, but Fred accredited it to the fact that the blonde was still being held prisoner by an arm around his neck.

"What is it?" George asked, now thoroughly intrigued.

"Well, if I knew what it was, then it wouldn't be a secret, would it?" Hermione answered, sending another look at George.

"But what could be so bad that he wouldn't tell his friends?" Draco asked, his voice laced with concern.

"I don't know," Hermione said sadly. "But it can't be anything good."

---------------------------------------------------------------------

They all have to act like my fucking parents, like they can brew up a few potions and cast a few spells and all the pain and heartache will go away. This isn't a bloody scratch, it's a damn wound, and it needs more than a band aid! Harry threw himself face first onto his bed, burying his head in a pillow, waiting for the inevitable footsteps that would follow.

They never came.

Oh, so the parents can't even check up on their own child? He thought bitterly. _At least they have parents that they can model themselves after. As for me, well, I have to always be the child, don't I?_

You're being unreasonable, an argumentative part of his brain spoke out. Harry quickly squashed it.

No, Harry Potter must always be the Boy-Who-Lived. The boy who lived through Voldemort's attacks as a baby, and through the years when everyone else had nothing to worry about other than hormones. The boy who dug a grave for his godfather and practically threw him in it!

A solitary tear had wriggled it's way out of Harry's left eye and settled where glass met rim on his glasses, blurring his dark image of the pillow even further. His head felt too small to hold all the thoughts that were racing through it, and in a matter of minutes Harry was sneaking around the house again, this time to a room he didn't visit as frequently.

"Hey Buckbeak," Harry whispered, bowing low to the hippogriff. Buckbeak immediately bowed in return, then slowly lay down. Closing the door quietly, Harry tiptoed over and sat next to the great beast's head, gently stroking the feathers.

"It's been a long time since we've seen each other, hasn't it?" Buckbeak nodded, moving so his head rested in Harry's lap. "I bet you miss him as much as I do, huh? All of a sudden, someone you always assumed would be there is gone, and no matter what, nothing can fill the gap." One large eye stared up at him, unblinking. Harry grabbed a ferret from a bucket and gave it to Buckbeak, who ate it without making a mess of Harry's trousers. Harry smiled.

"Why can't I be normal?," he sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "What is so special about me that I have to make all these sacrifices that no one else can even fathom? For once, I just want to be able to spend time with my friends without worrying that each one of them is a direct target because of me. I want to be able to love Draco without knowing that if his father ever knew, Draco would suffer a more painful death than is already planned for him. I want to be a regular, normal teenager without a care in the world."

"Ah, but Mr. Potter, normal is vastly overrated." Harry started at the soft voice coming from the doorway. The warm pressure from Harry's lap was lifted as Buckbeak stood proudly, waiting for Dumbledore's bow. Dumbledore and Buckbeak exchanged the needed formalities, and the headmaster made his way in.

"Excuse me, Mr. Potter, if I refrain from sitting on the floor. This body isn't the same as it used to be." He conjured a pair of plush velvet chairs and took a seat. "Care to join me?"

Harry, slightly blushing, took a seat opposite the professor. "Professor Dumbledore," he said, his voice tinged with embarrassment, "how much of that did you hear?"

"All of it, my dear boy, although it didn't provide me with any new information." At this Harry paled to a white that could have rivaled Draco's.

"So, you knew that Draco and I are . . ."

Dumbledore smiled. "Yes, yes, I have known since you both initiated the relationship back on Privet Drive."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "So . . . so you're okay with it?"

Dumbledore peered at Harry over his half moon spectacles. "We cannot choose who we love, Harry. Love is a very complicated emotion, and toying with it only brings disaster and pain. But when we follow our hearts, solace can be find in the most unlikely of places."

Harry let out a breath that he hadn't known he was holding.

"That, of course, does not give you and Mr. Malfoy free reign to use the school as you please. You will still behave as students." Harry glimpsed the familiar twinkle in the old man's eye as the raven head nodded vigorously, blushing.

"But I didn't come here to talk to you about your personal life, as interesting as it may be." Harry blushed again. "I know that Sirius' disappearance has had a great effect on you, an effect that none of your friends can imagine. Am I correct?"

Harry nodded slowly.

Dumbledore looked at Harry for a long time before he went on. "You are at a crossroads, Harry. You have many different decisions in front of you, and each will lead you down a different path. Some of these choices you will have to make on your own, and no one can make them for you. But there are some, Harry, that would best be made with the power of shared knowledge."

"Yes, sir," Harry said quietly, avoiding the headmaster's gaze.

"There are many times when we overestimate people," Dumbledore said, standing up. Harry copied his actions. "But we must be careful not to underestimate those near to our heart."

By this time they were at the door, which Dumbledore opened for Harry. They walked down the staircase together, Harry stopping at the door to his room.

"Professor?" he called in a muted voice.

Dumbledore stopped and turned around. "Yes, Harry?"

"Thank you."

A sincere smile made it's way onto the headmaster's face. "You are very welcome."

---------------------------------------------------------------------

"Where have you been?" Harry asked as Draco entered the room a good hour after Harry had finished talking with Dumbledore.

"Oh, we were just discussing you, and how you're mentally disturbed and can't think straight because of your undeniable lust for me, no pun intended." Harry could hear Draco getting changed and mentally cursed the darkness of the room and his poor eyesight.

"Thanks, I feel extremely loved," Harry said sarcastically, scooting over in the bed so Draco could have more room, but Draco just snuggled closer to Harry.

"You should," he said huskily, sending shivers down Harry's spine.

"Um, w-where's Ron?" Harry was having a hard time concentrating as Draco ran his slender fingers up and down Harry's bare arms.

"I like it when you go to bed shirtless," Draco whispered, lightly licking Harry's neck. "Saves me the trouble of removing clothing."

"Draco!" Harry turned his head toward the blonde, who was looking at him in mock innocence. "Ron is going to walk in any minute. Do you want to get caught?"

"Fine, have it your way Mr. I-Have-A-Stick-Up-My-Ass."

"I do not have a stick up my ass."

"Really? Want me to check for you?"

"DRACO!"

"Bloody hell, Harry, you're going to wake the entire house up if you don't shut it," Ron warned harshly as he came in. "Mum would kill you."

"What took you so bloody long?" Harry asked irritably, changing the subject.

"Hermione wanted to talk to me."

Immediately Harry was sitting bolt upright. "About what?"

"Aren't we the eager one?" Draco teased, discreetly letting one of his fingers slide along the back of Harry's waistband where Ron couldn't see. Harry wriggled, but didn't say anything.

"I have been waiting for five years for those two to start acknowledging each other, and I want to know what happens." Draco had now turned the back of the waistband down once, but since Ron was already in bed, the redhead didn't notice. Harry swiped at Draco.

"Well, she started talking about what happened at the party Fred and George held, and about what we should do about it-"

"Wait," Draco interrupted. "You two STILL aren't together?"

"Well, I think we were on that path, when Ginny came in to ask Hermione for some shirt . . ." Harry could hear the disappointment in Ron's voice.

"Sorry, mate," Harry said. "You're going to have to do something about it soon."

"I know, I know. But right now, all I want to do is sleep."

"Good, maybe we can get some sleep, too!" reprimanded one of the portraits.

"Why didn't we get rid of those?" Harry groaned.

"Hey Harry?" Ron asked.

"Whatever happened to sleep?" pouted Draco. Harry smacked him.

"Why are you and Draco still sleeping in the same bed? There are plenty of other rooms here."

"Habit, I guess. Plus, we all three wanted to sleep in the same room."

"Right. 'Night."

"Night, Ron."

"Night Weasel."

"Night ferret." Ron snores were heard almost immediately.

"Harry, are you asleep?" Draco breathed into Harry's ear a few minutes later.

"Of course I'm not. You can't make advances on me right before bed and then expect me to sleep." Harry turned on his side so he was looking at Draco. "That was your plan, wasn't it?"

"Yup, pretty much," came the devilish reply. Draco let his hand find Harry's waistband, which was still rolled down, and began playing with it again.

"Draco, I said it before, and I'm going to say it again. No." Harry pushed Draco's hands away.

"I didn't want to do _that_, you gutter minded fool, I just wanted to kiss you." Draco shook the silvery locks out of his eyes so he could look at Harry clearly.

"But, Draco, Ron's in the room," came the expected protest.

"But . . . you . . ." Draco grabbed Harry by the shoulders and pulled him up for another round of hungry, probing kisses.

"Aren't . . . you . . . ever . . . sated?" Harry asked between kisses. "You're like the bloody Energizer Bunny."

"The what?" Draco stopped. "What the hell is an enerwhatzer bunny?"

Harry sighed. "Never mind. It's a Muggle thing. Can I go to sleep now?"

"Sure," said Draco, spooning into Harry. "But you have to hug me like a teddy bear."

"Whatever, I'm tired." Harry wrapped his arms around the thin waist, hip bones jutting into his forearms. "You need to eat more."

"What, and make this ass fat?" retorted Draco, wiggling into Harry's crotch. Harry squeezed Draco so hard that Draco couldn't breathe.

"Alright, fine I won't ever do that to you again," Draco pouted. "Ungrateful, that's what you are, to have a boyfriend as horny as me."

"Just don't do it when I want to get to sleep," Harry whispered against Draco's neck. "But I'm very glad to have a boyfriend as horny as you. You're very creative." Harry moved one arm up to hold Draco's hand, which he clutched against his chest as he snuggled further into Harry, promptly falling asleep.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey, you guys, get up," said Ginny as she shook Harry and Draco awake. "Hurry, before Ron sees."

"Nuh uh," protested Draco, moving closer to Harry as Harry's arms gripped him tighter.

"You guys are spooned all over each other, and I bet Ron would love your explanation when he sees," she threatened in an ice cold voice. Harry and Draco immediately leapt apart. Simultaneously they both realized that neither was wearing a shirt. So did Ginny.

"I'll leave, and you guys can . . . clean up. But don't forget to wake Ron up." She turned on her heel, a smile playing on her face, leaving both boys very flushed.

"You can have the shower first," Harry offered, and with a chaste kiss Draco scurried off to clean up.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

It was at breakfast that Harry started to notice Draco's uneasiness. The blonde was barely poking at his breakfast, and was always sending glances down towards the adult end of the table where members of the Order were seated. The same happened at lunch, and supper, and Harry was becoming worried.

After dessert he drew Ginny aside. "I think something is wrong with Draco," he confessed. "He hasn't been eating all day, and he's been jittery, and it worries me."

Ginny looked puzzled. "He's been the same as he has since we got here. I didn't notice a difference."

"He barely touched a meal today! And we had cheesecake for dessert, you know how he loves that, but he ate one bite before he tossed it." Harry ran his hands through his hair. "I hope I didn't do anything last night to make him angry with me."

"Harry," Ginny said in a voice that made Harry's gaze lock with her. "He's been this way since we got here," she repeated. "Haven't you noticed?"

"No, I've been . . . distracted, I guess." A wave of guilt passed through him. "Oh, Merlin, I hope nothing's seriously wrong."

"With you or him?" Ginny asked. Harry looked at her questioningly. "You've been different since we came here. Are you alright?" She had a look of half concern, half panic on her face as Harry's eyes clouded over, and Ginny braced herself for an outburst, but Harry controlled himself.

"Yea, I'm alright," he said quietly. "Being around here brings back memories of him, you know? And it hurts, thinking about how things could have been if he were still here, if he hadn't passed through the veil."

Ginny stepped forward and embraced Harry in a tight hug. _She's pretty strong for someone her size_. The top of Ginny's head barely grazed Harry's face, and he rested his chin on her hair, just holding her.

"I know what it's like to feel alone, Harry," she whispered into his neck. "It's hard, it really is, but remember that we're always here for you." Harry nodded into the nest of red below him.

"Am I interrupting something?" came a teasing drawl. Harry stepped away from Ginny, grinning.

"No, dahling, just a good talk between old friends." Harry beamed down at Ginny.

"Anyways, Blondie, could I talk to you?"

"You know I hate that nickname," Draco grumbled as he watched Ginny leave the room. "What did you need to say?"

Harry took a deep breath and turned Draco towards him so they were looking into each other's eyes. "Is everything okay?" Harry asked, green searching silver. "You haven't been the same since we've been here." For the first time Harry noticed how tight the skin stretched across Draco's usually slender frame, deepening each hollow of his body. The dark circles around his eyes were perfect half circle bruises staining his face, deadening the silvery eyes.

Almost like Sirius right out of Azkaban.

"What do you mean? I'm fine," Draco answered a little too quickly.

"You haven't been eating, you're quieter than I've ever seen you, you just haven't been yourself," Harry pointed out. "Something's up, Draco. Don't deny it."

Draco sighed. "Must you play mother?" he asked bitterly. "And why do you always have to be right?"

Harry ignored Draco's first question. "What is it?" he pushed. "What's bothering you?"

"The Order." Harry was confused by Draco's words, and Draco elaborated. "They all look at me like I'm a death eater, they won't talk around me, at all, and I can feel the hostility every time I'm around them. It's as if I have the Dark Mark tattooed on my forehead."

"Oh, Draco," Harry said, breathing a sigh of relief. He wrapped his arms around the boy, nuzzling into his neck. "You had me so worried. This is nothing."

"What!" cried Draco in disbelief. "I'm being treated like a walking Dark Mark and you say it's nothing? I think you may need a new brain, Harry."

Harry laughed. "Oh, Draco, it's not that I don't care. Mad Eye treats everyone like a suspect, even members of the Order. The rest just aren't used to the fact that the son of Voldemort's second in command is here in headquarters. And as for not saying anything around you, well, they never say anything around those of us who aren't in the Order."

Harry held Draco closer. "You had me worried. Don't ever do that again."

Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's waist. "I won't," he promised.

"Now, how 'bout dessert?" Harry said.

"Sounds good to me," Draco agreed. Harry started to walk off, but Draco grabbed his wrist and pulled him back.

"Where are you going?" Draco asked.

"To get dessert." Harry looked puzzled. "I thought you wanted some."

"It was in my arms before it walked away," Draco pouted, arms encircling Harry again.

"You are too much of a romantic," Harry teased.

Draco leaned closer. "Don't see you protesting."

"Not one bit," Harry said softly as their lips met in a delicacy much more delicious than

cheesecake.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

The few remaining weeks of summer passed by so quickly that the morning of September first dawned on three very tousled, irritated boys rushing around the house scooping up the last of their belongings.

"Have you seen my Divination book?"

"I think it's over by _Quidditch Through the Ages_."

"No, that's Transfiguration."

"Here it is! It was under Draco's trousers."

"Disgusting! Now it's infected."

"Shut it, Weasel."

"I think these robes are yours, Draco. They're silk."

"Isn't that a bit feminine?"

"They are not silk, Harry. And no, silk is not feminine."

"Says the boy who spends a fortune on hair gel."

"Harry, you're pushing it."

"Where's the Exploding Snap game?"

"Ouch! That bloody hurt!"

"What?"

"I stepped on one of the cards and it exploded."

"Good job Harry. At least we know the game still works."

"Stop snickering, Ron."

And so went the conversation from five until seven, when Mrs. Weasley forced them to take a break and scarf down some breakfast.

Both of the girls were sitting at the table, eating in a relaxed manner and chatting excitedly about the upcoming year.

"See you forgot to pack again," Hermione said. "Don't you three ever learn?"

"No," said Ron through a mouthful of bacon. "And we didn't forget, we just procrastinated."

"Oh, that's much better," Ginny said sarcastically.

"I think you're beginning to have an influence on her," Harry said to Draco. Draco glared at him, but the overall effect was lost as he had a piece of bacon hanging halfway out of his mouth.

Draco leaned over and whispered so quietly only Harry could hear. "That uniform makes

you look like a horny schoolboy."

Harry smirked. "That's because I am."

"It's taking all my self control right now not to just ravish you on the table."

"Please don't. It takes forever to get marmalade out of these sweaters."

"Oh look, the sweethearts are whispering sweet nothings to each other over breakfast," said George, purposely making his voice high and shrill.

"When's the wedding?" asked Fred.

"Are we invited?" asked George.

Draco sent another patented Malfoy glare at them, which just made them laugh harder.

"Now really, what were you talking about?" said Ron.

"Just asking Harry if he always makes those sounds when he sleeps," Draco lied smoothly.

"Only as often as you do," Harry said innocently.

Ron's expression twisted. "That implies a lot of nasty stuff, Harry."

Harry smirked. "I know. Gotta love the innuendo."

The rest of breakfast was rushed, and soon the boys were upstairs throwing the last few items into their trunks and locking them. Hedwig flew into her cage and Harry shut the wire door, attaching both trunk and cage to a carrier.

By ten o'clock the foyer was filled with five carriers, and plenty of people exchanging handshakes and hugs with the departing pupils. There were many wishes for a good school year, as well as warnings to be on the lookout for anything or anyone dangerous.

Harry felt his heart twinge as he boarded the train, the whistle urging him to hurry up. Harry was tempted to turn and search the crowd one last time for a large, black dog, but he fought it back and searched for an empty compartment.

The group lucked out: this year they found a compartment after only a few minutes of searching, and quickly plunked down. Soon they were joined by Neville, who threw a few initial glances of suspicion at Draco before the situation was explained. Luna squeezed in after him, in her usual dreamy state, and offered Draco a warm smile, which he returned. Ron looked uncomfortable.

After going through the expected renditions of the summer, and the retelling of Harry and Draco's tale (leaving out the romantic liaisons, of course), Neville and Luna were bursting with questions, which the others patiently answered.

"So now you're one of us?" Neville said.

"As in . . .?" Draco prompted, opening another chocolate frog he had bought when the cart stopped by.

"Oh, a good guy." Neville blushed.

Draco laughed. "I suppose you could call me that." He caught Harry's eyes and winked.

"Oy, look there," Ron said, pointing to the windows of the compartment that gazed into the hallway. A group of very angry Slytherins were passing by, all leering at Draco like he had just let off a fairly pungent dungbomb in their dormitory.

"Wow. You have to appreciate the love and warmth us Slytherins radiate, hmm?" Draco said lightheartedly, but Harry could sense that the brief demonstration had disturbed Draco.

As the topic turned to the raging war and the prefects shuffled in and out through the maze of knees, time passed so quickly that the entire group, minus Hermione, who had changed halfway there, shrugged into their robes at lightning speed as the train started to slow and pull into Hogsmeade. Ron, Hermione, and Draco adjusted their prefect pins, heading off to supervise while Harry, Neville, Luna, and Ginny crowded into their carriage. Harry could hear the distant call of "Firs' years" from Hagrid.

"Those things are scary," Neville said, referring to the thestrals. "I always thought I was hearing things, the snorts and the stomps, but those things are worse."

Harry chuckled. He was glad to be home.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

"I am sick and tired of first years," Draco muttered as he sat down next to Harry at The Griffyndor table, eliciting a few gasps from unknowing house members. Quickly those who had been at Fred and George's party turned and explained the situation.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked quietly.

"The Slytherins all already hate me, don't see what harm this does." Draco shrugged. "Plus, last year the Sorting Hat said to make inter-house bonds, and that's what I'm doing."

Harry smiled, but once again he felt that twisting knife as he always did when he was worried about Draco.

The hall quieted as the great doors opened and the meek first years were led through. The Sorting Hat was placed on a stool at the front of the dining hall, and all waited patiently for it to break out in song.

To the newer members of our school,  
Soon to be divided,  
Take heed the words I sing to you  
With the time I am provided.  
A danger that has lurked unseen  
Has now come into play,  
And within these walls this year  
Is where you're bound to stay.  
I am here to divvy up,  
To choose the path you tread,  
But the choice is not entirely mine  
To illuminate the obstacles ahead  
That you will face as time goes by,  
And the year moves on,  
Be careful in the steps you take  
Whether, King, Knight, or Pawn.  
Your closest friend may be a foe,  
And the enemy your savior.  
The sweet may turn to sour  
The bitterest of flavors.  
The quadrant that once stood proud,  
The rulers of our school,  
Hogwarts' founders and creators,  
The eventual fools,  
Believed that separating talents,  
Not mixing from the start,  
Would make each pupil stronger,  
Reinforce each heart.  
This isolation worked backwards,  
Brewing jealousy, hate, and fear.  
The school fell into disrepair,  
The end seemed soon to be near.  
Then Slytherin, a stubborn sort,  
Departed from this place,  
Leaving his three old friends behind  
With a brighter future to face.  
Although they came here with one dream  
Of magic, might, and wonder,  
A success it would have been  
Except for their hideous blunder.  
For none of the traits can stand on their own,  
Each must be united.  
Independently they disintegrate  
And leave each person shortsighted.  
The knowledge of the Ravenclaw,  
The sharpest and the learned,  
Is only part without Hufflepuff  
And the great respect they earn.  
The nobility of Gryffindor,  
The bravery and the might,  
Is empty without the other three,  
And in a twisted plight.  
For the final piece is Slytherin,  
The cunning and the sly,  
The one for which, when presented,  
A chance never passes by.  
For Slytherin is an obstinate bunch,  
Slow to abandon their ideals.  
The joining will be hard for them  
With their values of hardened steel.  
But join together you must  
For you are our brightest hope yet,  
And as you go to your respective tables  
My words do not forget.  
For the time will soon arrive,  
When fate will rest in your hands.  
So let the Sorting now commence  
As tradition demands.

The expected applause was heard as the hat stopped moving, but Harry could feel the tense atmosphere surrounding the students. Once again the hat had warned them, even urged them, to forge an alliance between the houses. But this time it had warned that the alliance was the hope of the wizarding world. Harry wasn't the only one unsettled by this news.

After the Sorting, and the brief readjustment for the new Gryffindors, Dumbledore motioned for them all to eat. The food magically appeared on the golden platters, the goblets filling to the brim, and the students attacked the food as if they hadn't eaten in weeks.

The clanking of cutlery and china quickly subsided when Dumbledore rose and motioned for everyone to be silent.

"I hope you all tucked in rather well, for there is nothing worse than going to bed on an empty stomach." He smiled at the crowd before him. "Before we head off to bed, I have a few announcements to make. As usual, I'd like to remind everybody that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to _everyone_."

Harry swore that Dumbledore glanced in his direction.

"Mr. Filch would like to announce that there have been a few revisions to the list of banned items, which will be posted on his door if anyone would like to double check.

"In light of recent events, I must insist that all students stay inside the castle between the hours of 7 P.M. and 7 A.M. No student is to be found outside alone at any hour of the day. I will be speaking to Quidditch captains about practices in the next few days."

Ron caught Draco's eye, and Draco mouthed, "Buddy system _again_."

"I will be frank with you," continued Dumbledore, his voice now devoid of any amusement. "Since the return of Lord Voldemort-" A collective gasp filled the Great Hall. "Come now, children! It is merely a name, and as I have said before, fear of a name only increases fear of a thing itself. Do not give the Dark Lord power over you by fear of his name." His gaze roamed the room, silencing any whispers. "Since the return of Lord Voldemort, there has been a great deal of discussion of the safety of having so many children gathered in the same castle at once. The Ministry of Magic is willing to allow all of us to stay here and continue with our education, _as long as things run smoothly_. Please do not create unnecessary disturbances this year. Results could be more catastrophic than you'd imagine."

A grim quiet gripped the room. Even Peeves had stopped being a bother for the time being, and was watching Dumbledore. Suddenly, Dumbledore smiled.

"On a happier note, this Halloween Hogwarts will be hosting a rather extravagant dance."

Harry inwardly groaned. _Didn't I suffer enough during my fourth year?_, he thought to himself.

"This will not be a formal ball. Instead, we kindly ask that you come in costume. We have decided that the theme will be Alternate Universe. You are to find or create an original costume that portrays a part of yourself you don't show often, or a costume that expresses an opposite idea of yourself. Attendance, of course, is voluntary. And now, off to bed!" he cried, waving his hands at them to shoo them off. "Prefects, please lead your houses!"

"I'll see you tonight," Draco muttered as he went off to lead the first years. Harry nodded and followed the swell of people through the doors and up the staircases, parting with the Ravenclaws at a landing.

After presenting the new password ("Wolfsbane"), Harry made his way through the common room and up the stairs. Dean was tacking up a new football poster, and Seamus was changing for bed.

"Heya, Harry," Seamus greeted as Harry walked in, the soft lilt in his voice making Harry smile. "How was your summer?"

Harry paused. "Eventful," he said truthfully.

Dean laughed. "I heard. Tell us about it."

So, for the second time that day, Harry repeated his story, eliciting gasps and shocked expressions at all the right times.

"So, you got to seep in a bed with Draco all summer?" Seamus asked mischievously. "I'd say you're a lucky one."

"Oh, come off it, Seamus! Just because you're bi doesn't mean we all are," Dean said, dodging Seamus' fist.

"Did you see the new decorations?" Seamus asked, pointing to the frame above Harry's bed. "Why they'd put a picture of a room above your bed, I dunno. Thought they might use slightly more interesting pictures here."

"Who knows?" said Harry, shrugging as he looked at the Porthole. "Maybe it's a fetish of the designer."

Ron came in a few minutes later, and they all climbed into bed after saying goodnight and closing the curtains.

Harry waited until he could hear the deep, rhythmic breathing of his dorm mates, then silently stood up. The bottom of the Porthole was waist high, so he could easily climb in. Harry tentatively put one hand up to where the canvas would be on a normal picture and pushed. There was no resistance, and Harry had to grab the frame to keep from falling headfirst into the room. He lifted himself through, landing catlike on the soft carpet beneath him, and turned to see Draco on his right.

"You took forever to get here," Draco complained. "Could you have taken any longer?"

"Nice to see you, too, dear," Harry said happily. "Now, can we get to bed, my eyes won't stay open."

"Yea, sure." Harry followed Draco to their rooms.

"This is yours, and this one is mine," Draco said, motioning to the doors through a yawn.

Harry frowned. "I don't want to sleep in a different room. We've been sleeping in the same bed all summer, and it won't be the same."

"True. Come here, then." Harry followed Draco into the Slytherin's room, which was decorated in purples and golds, and about as fancy and comfortable as the rest of wherever they were.

After settling themselves deep between the sheets, which felt as if they were made out of silk, Draco embraced Harry.

"So how were the Slytherins?" Harry asked.

"Terrible, horrible, what you would expect. A few of them supported me, not all of them are bad, and asked if they could join us tomorrow. Was completely ignored in the dorm, which suits me fine. All in all, it's nothing I can't deal with." Draco rested his head on Harry's shoulder.

"Well, I'm always here if you need me," Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"That's a comforting thought." Draco kissed Harry lightly on the lips, then fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	9. Never Judge a Book by Its Cover

****

Disclaimer: I wish I could own 'em . . .

"Harry," Draco mumbled groggily, "Harry, what time is it?"

"How am I supposed to know?" Harry retorted. "Whatever time it is, it's-"

"Time to get up," said a soft, but very awake voice.

"Professor Dumbledore?" Draco exclaimed. "What, why, I-" He was suddenly very aware that he was still wrapped in Harry's arms, shirtless. "Uh, I can explain. Harry, why are you laughing?"

Harry was shaking with laughter. "You- you're so funny when you're flustered."

"Professor Dumbledore is standing there, watching us sleep with you all over me, and

you're laughing." Draco frowned. "Is there something going on that I don't know about?"

"No, dear boy," Dumbledore reassured with a smile. "But there is rarely anything going on that I do not know about."

"So you know about us?" Draco questioned through narrow eyes.

"Yes, he knows about us," Harry answered, landing a quick kiss on Draco's nose. "So get over it and get up. My arm is asleep." Draco blushed but sat up, which freed Harry's arm, and hastily combed his hair through his fingers.

"So, may I ask why you're here, Professor?" Draco said in the tone he reserved for adults.

"In a few minutes, both you and Harry will need to return to your dorm, so your classmates don't become suspicious." Dumbledore motioned for both boys to get out of bed and follow him to the large room with the Portholes. The sleeping portraits snored loudly as they passed, and a few snapped at them for being up so early.

"Now, remember to be quiet as you enter your rooms. The spells keep people away, but don't block out sound." Dumbledore smiled. "Get a few more minutes of sleep, and I'll see you in the Great Hall for breakfast within the hour." The headmaster then turned to Draco, the smile faltering slightly. "I advise you to be careful, Mr. Malfoy, with your house-mates. We all know that some are more treacherous than others." Draco nodded, feeling Harry's arm tighten slightly around his waist. The professor smiled once more, then turned and went down one of the long, twisting hallways.

"We better get going," Harry said in a sleepy voice, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

"How long has he known?" Draco demanded, withdrawing from Harry's touch. "And don't play stupid, Harry Potter, since when has Dumbledore known about us?" Draco had his arms crossed and was giving Harry a look that made it very clear that Harry was going to be talking.

"Erm, well, he's known since we got together on Privet Drive," Harry mumbled, avoiding Draco's gaze.

"How did he know?!" Draco exclaimed. "And when were you going to tell me?"

"Well, the Order has people always keeping watch on me, so I guess someone saw and reported it." Harry tried to climb through the Porthole, but Draco grabbed him by the back of his pajama top and hauled him back.

"And why haven't I heard about this before?" he hissed, eyes blazing. "Didn't I have a right to know who knew about us and who didn't?"

"I didn't think about that, okay?" Harry wrenched away from him, venom poisoning his words. "I try not to think about all the people hovering over me day and night, waiting for me to make some little mistake so they can throw me into extreme lock-down like a bloody criminal."

Draco, taken aback by Harry's outburst, opened his mouth to say something sarcastic, but wisely shut it. "Sorry," he said instead. "It's just so hard trying to keep this a secret, and the less people that know, the better, for now."

"Yea," Harry said, meeting Draco's eye again. "But I'm the one who should apologize. I went over the top."

"Yes, you did," Draco agreed, pushing Harry up against the wall, "But you can make it up to me right now."

"But breakfast, and classes-"

"Agh, you can spare five minutes." Draco lightly brushed his lips over Harry's and grazed is tongue along Harry's bottom lip. Draco felt Harry shiver, and lids lowered over emerald eyes.

"Okay, five minutes," came the reply, and Draco used all five minutes to his advantage.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Where were you this morning?" Ron asked as Harry slid onto the bench in the great hall ten minutes before breakfast was over. "You didn't answer when we tried to get you out of bed, and you barely have enough time to eat before we go to class."

"Wha dwe af irt?" Harry managed around a mouthful of toast.

"We all have Potions, and here's your schedule," Hermione said, placing the parchment in front of Harry. "Are you feeling okay? You look warm, are you coming down with anything?"

Harry shook his head and swallowed a gulp of pumpkin juice. Draco's promised five minutes had easily turned into ten, then fifteen, then thirty, and so on until both of them had to make a mad dash for the showers and breakfast. Harry had made it before Draco, most likely because Draco was still preening himself, or at least that was what Harry thought. And he was right.

Draco paused outside the doors to the Great Hall and ran his hands over his magically dried hair to smooth it down once more, then strode in like he owned the place, as usual. He felt the eyes of the Slytherins follow him as he made a beeline for the Gryffindor table, specifically the open seat next to Harry. Using his peripheral vision, he saw a few Slytherins pick up their plates and follow in his wake, and noticed that one of the female fifth years was waved over and sat next to Ginny. They obviously knew each other and struck up conversation immediately, comparing classes and gossiping. The other Slytherins filled in the empty spaces, receiving warm, but surprised, greeting from the Gryffindors.

"I've started a trend," Draco commented as he buttered a croissant. "Aren't I so fashionable?"

"Modest, too," Dean added, snickering.

"Oh, Draco, your hair . . . it's mussed in back." Seamus motioned to the back of Draco's head, and laughed so hard he began to cough at the expression on Draco's face as his arms flailed at his shoulder length hair.

"I . . . I just meant . . . these three little strands . . . were sticking up," Seamus said between fits. He blanched a bit at the scowl Draco sent him but didn't stop laughing. "Ye Gods, you think that the world was going to end by the way you screwed your face up."

Draco scowled. "At least I have some fashion sense," he huffed, filling his plate from the platters around him.

"Yea, enough fashion sense to know every primping charm out there," Ron muttered.

The friendly bantering continued through the meal and into the hallways, but their carefree mood disappeared as they rounded the corner to the dungeons and came upon a group of waiting Slytherins. They did not look happy.

"Well is it isn't the blood traitor," Pansy drawled, Crabbe and Goyle flanking her on either side. "Finally decide to show your weakness and associate with the Gryffindors, eh Malfoy?"

"I'd rather have allies in the lion's den than enemies, Parkinson," Draco said coolly.

"To each his own." Pansy smirked. "You just couldn't resist the temptation of being friends with a celebrity. Always had to be in the limelight."

"Like you?" Harry challenged. "The minute the position of Slytherin Head Bitch is open, you assume the title. Couldn't resist, could you?"

"Harry, this isn't your battle," Draco said without taking his eyes off Pansy. "Stay out of it."

"Oh, so it's Harry now?" Pansy squealed, letting out a high pitched cackle. "Oh, how very pleased your father will be." There was an evil glint in her eye and malice in her smile.

"Harry, Draco, let's go. Class is about to start," Hermione pleaded, tugging on Harry's sleeve. "We don't need to give Snape a reason to dock points on the first day."

"Yes, run off with the Mudblood," Pansy laughed. "Muddy your reputation more than it is already. You're a disgrace."

Draco glanced around them. "Parkinson, you're making a scene," he remarked. All around them students had gathered, watching in an awed silence.

"Perfect," she said. "Now you and your celebrity friend have all the publicity you need."

"It's not like I want it!" Harry yelled, reaching for his wand. Draco grabbed Harry's wrist before it reached his pocket and whipped his head around towards Harry. The familiar silver eyes were frozen over with ice and carried a deadly warning.

"Don't get involved," Draco said through clenched teeth. "This isn't your problem." Harry returned the glare with just as fierce a look, but kept his mouth shut.

"The all powerful Potty now takes orders from the ferret. The Boy-Who-Lived has been knocked off his pedestal." Pansy batted her mascara laden lashes at Harry with a sickening smile.

"Leave him out of this!" Draco snarled. "This is between you and me Parkinson, and let's keep it that way."

"And don't call him a ferret!" Ron said. "Only I'm allowed to do that!"

"Oh look, all the blood traitors are banding together," Blaise said in a tone similar to Pansy's. "Maybe they should start their own little club, like Potter's fan club."

"Guys, we need to get to class," Hermione urged. "Draco, you're a prefect; you can't be late on the first day."

"Yes, be on your way, ickle prefect. This isn't over, Malfoy." Pansy turned and strode off, her heels clicking on the cold stone floor.

"Why someone would wear those shoes to walk around school puzzles me beyond belief." Hermione shook her head as she took hold of Ron's arm and dragged him through the dungeons.

"We were just confronted by the worst bunch of Slytherins in school, and all you can comment on is shoes?" exclaimed Ron. "You are such a girl."

"Yes, with this body, I'd hope so," Hermione retorted. Ron blushed.

"Forget about Pansy for the duration of class," Draco advised. "If Snape notices anything strange, he'll make the situation worse than it already is."

They had reached the Potions classroom and hurried inside right before the bell rang. Surprisingly, Snape wasn't on their heels. In fact, Snape wasn't to be seen, not even in the hallway.

"Weird," Ron commented. "But if Pansy is going to be bothering us all year, I can't wait until the break." Ron plunked his bag on the table next to Hermione's and slid onto his stool.

"Oh, get over yourself," Harry shot at him. "It isn't that bad."

"Harry!" said a shocked Hermione. "That was uncalled for!"

Harry looked away. "Sorry," he mumbled. "Guess I'm still sore over what Pansy said, about me enjoying the publicity."

"But Harry, we all know that's not true," Ron said comfortingly. "She's just doing it to get to you."

"I know," Harry admitted, turning to the front of the room as he unpacked his Potions supplies.

"Liar," Draco said quietly as he slid into the seat next to Harry. "You're not sore over Pansy. You're mad because I told you to stay out of it."

"So what if I am?" Harry pouted. "Not like it's your problem."

"Come off it." Draco's hand slid under the table, linking with Harry's. "You shouldn't be getting mixed up in matters that really don't concern you. You have enough to deal with as it is. I can take care of myself."

Harry nodded, his face turning red as Draco began tracing patterns along the top of his thigh. "Yea, okay, now _stop_," he hissed. "I don't need to deal with _that_ in the middle of class."

"But it's only the beginning of class," Draco said innocently, using his free hand to set up his cauldron. "You have plenty of time to make it go away. Aren't you so glad these new robes are roomy?"

"Harry, are you okay? You're not going to magically blow something up, are you?" Ron asked worriedly. "You're looking a tad angry."

"Mr. Potter, do you need to visit Madame Pomfrey?" came the cold, slow snarl of Professor Snape as he entered the classroom. "You're looking a bit more red than usual."

"No, Professor, I'll be fine," Harry said as normally as he could. "I'm just a little . . . warm."

"Very well. I suggest you stop trying to impersonate a beet and get to unloading your ingredients. Maybe sitting next to Mr. Malfoy will have an influence on you and your upcoming NE.W.T. exam. I believe he is a much better example than Mr. Weasley ever was." Snape let a small smile slip as he glanced at Draco, but by the time he reached the front of the classroom his usual expression of icy indifference had returned.

"Open your books to the chapter on healing potions," came the command, as if class hadn't been interrupted by summer holiday. "For those of you who didn't bother to crack a book all summer, that would be chapter seven. Brew the first potion on the page, a basic painkilling and minor-abrasion healing potion, and hand it in with your summer assignment by the end of the class. Any extra materials you may need, if you forgot to pick them up or already ruined them," he said, looking pointedly at Neville who couldn't find his shredded boomslang skin, "can be found in the student store cupboard. You have a little more than an hour. You may begin."

"So, do you want to get the extra ingredients, or do you want me to?" Draco said coyly.

"Thanks to you, I can't really stand up right now," Harry growled. "Just get what we need for the potion and get back here. I'll start the fire."

"Ay, ay, captain," sang Draco as he sauntered off to the cabinet. Harry watched him with mixed anger and lust, then focused on lighting the fire.

Even Harry had to admit that when working with Draco, making the potion wasn't as difficult as it was when he was working with Ron. The ingredients were never mixed up or mis-measured, and the potion looked like it was supposed to. Another plus was that they finished way ahead of everyone else.

"Give me your hand," Draco ordered as he gave the potion a final stir. Harry, still wary and still dealing with his previous predicament, thrust it out in front of Draco's face with the wrist upturned. "Tsk, tsk, don't we have an attitude?" Harry just grunted in return.

"This might hurt," Draco said, but before Harry could ask what was going to hurt, he felt a gash open up across his wrist.

"What the hell was that for?!" he cried, snatching his wrist back and examining the cut.

"That hurt!"

"Language, Mr. Potter." Snape shot him a look from his desk, but didn't dock any points.

"Maybe being friends with you has more benefits than I imagined," Harry said. "But why did you cut me?"

"It's a healing potion that fixes minor cuts and bruises, so to make sure it works, we need a cut that we can fix," Draco explained.

"And of course, we couldn't mar your flawless skin, could we?" Harry said bitterly.

"You catch on quickly." Draco scooped a mouthful of the bright orange potion out of the

cauldron with a ladle and held it over his hand. "Come here, you need to drink it."

"Really? I thought I'd have to snort it," Harry said sarcastically. He moved closer and placed his lips on the rim of the metal scoop, which Draco tilted towards him slowly. Harry closed his eyes as the warm liquid slid over his tongue. It was sweet, and tasted faintly of jasmine. Harry felt the potion slide down his throat and spread over the walls of his stomach, infusing his veins and arteries with warmth.

"Harry," Draco said, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. "Look at your wrist."

Reluctantly Harry opened his eyes and turned his arm over so he could see the gash, or what was left of it. The skin was rapidly expanding and stretching over the cut, the blood drying instantly.

"Guess it works," Harry said, and spooned some of the potion into a flask. Draco applied the label, lettered in his tidy handwriting.

"Time to go turn it in," Draco announced. Draco looked at Harry expectantly.

"What? I'm not going up there! Not like this!" Harry sat stubbornly.

"But I got the ingredients. It's your turn."

"No. You got me into this mess; you are going to turn it in." Harry handed the flask to Draco. "Go."

"I could Imperius you to do it," Draco threatened.

"Doesn't effect me, remember?" Harry smirked. "Now, turn it in." Draco slouched off, throwing a nasty glance over his shoulder. Harry just smiled and started cleaning up.

"Harry, what are you doing? We still have fifteen minutes to go," Ron said, looking up from his and Hermione's table. "You can't be done already."

"Well, we're done," said Harry. "And it works, too. See?" He held up his wrist for Ron and Hermione.

"You let him test on you?" Hermione exclaimed. "But you weren't sure it was going to work! You could have been hurt!"

"Too bad he wasn't," Pansy called from the next table over.

Harry sighed, ignoring her. "We followed the directions precisely, and it looked exactly like it was supposed to. It was safe."

"Just because something looks fine doesn't mean it is!" Hermione reprimanded. "Harry, you-"

"'Mione, you're starting to sound like my mother," Ron interrupted. "Leave him alone. Plus, we need to finish our potion. Come on." Hermione opened her mouth to continue with her safety speech, but changed her train of thought as Ron almost added too much of the dragon liver, which would have made the potion explode. At the last moment she knocked his hand out of the way, sending the liver splattering over the desk.

"Ms. Granger, I hope you intend to clean up that mess before the bell rings, or I may have to deduct points for your clumsiness."

"Yes, Professor," she sighed, glowering at Ron.

"Did they mess something up again?" Draco asked, back at the desk. "It's a miracle that either of them passed their O.W.L.'s."

"It's a miracle _I_ passed my owls. I'm either going to have to keep an almost perfect score in Potions this year or take extra classes." Harry scowled. "I didn't do so well on the exams."

"And you have yourself to blame for it," Draco said as he vanished the leftover potion from the cauldron. "Should have spent more time studying and less time with that Dumbledore's Army thing you had set up."

"Can't say it didn't pay off, though," Harry said. "If I remember correctly, all those hexes and jinxes worked perfectly well on the train."

Draco glared at Harry. "It took my father forever to get me out of that mess. Whatever mixture of spells you threw at me, it was almost as bad as what Lucius did to me afterwards."

A wave of guilt washed over Harry. "Sorry 'bout that. Didn't realize he'd do that to you at the time."

"Oh, it was nothing." Draco dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "It's in the past, can't do anything about it. But anyways, I can help you with Potions, if you'd like. If you can understand it, it's not all that hard. You Gryffindors are just too literal and thick-headed to think on a different level."

"I resent that, you know," Harry said with a frown. "But I would like the extra help. We can talk about it later."

Draco looked confused. "Why not now?"

"Because the bell is about to ring," Harry said, packing the last of the ingredients away.

Sure enough, just as he said it, the bell rang and those who hadn't finished the assignment hastily bottled it and placed it on Snape's desk. As usual, there was a myriad of colors ranging from the deepest jet black to a glowing white. There were very few that were orange, and none were the same shade. Harry got up and left before the rest of the class, adjusting his robes so they hung loosely in front.

"That was a nightmare," Ron moaned on the way out. "I added too much frog spawn, but Hermione was able to fix most of the damage before the end."

"But it was still more of a yellow than an orange!" wailed Hermione as she raced out of the classroom. "Who knows what side effects it could have!"

"Hermione, how many times do I have to tell you, I'm sorry!" Ron called to her rapidly retreating back. "Gah, I had to mess things up again. What do we have next?" he asked Harry, looking pretty glum.

"Well, we have a thirty minute break, then Divination," Harry read from their schedule. "What to you have, Draco?"

"Break, just like you guys, then Ancient Runes, with Hermione," he recited.

"I'm going to head after Hermione, see if she'll forgive me for messing up her grade on the first day," Ron said. "See you in class!" He jogged off in the direction Hermione disappeared in, quickly getting lost in the crowd.

"Hey, I gotta go to the bathroom," Draco said.

"Okay, see you at lunch," said Harry.

"Wait. Come with me," Draco said.

Harry was confused. "Why?"

"Because. I don't want to go alone." Draco stuck his lower lip out. "Please?"

"Not like I have anything better do to," Harry said with a shrug. "You lead, I'll follow."

"Ever been to the prefect's bathroom?" Draco asked.

"Yea, once in our fourth year." Draco shot Harry a questioning look. "To figure out that golden egg. No other reason."

"Oh, right. If I let you hear the password, you won't use it for evil, will you?"

Harry smiled. "Oh yes, I'll use it to communicate with Voldemort."

"Good." Draco spoke the password ("tradition"). Harry and Draco entered the bathroom, and Harry leaned against the wall while Draco finished with his business.

"You look uncomfortable," Draco said as he came out. "Something bothering you?"

"Like you haven't noticed," Harry shot back.

"It looks like it's time for me to finish what I started in Potions," Draco said, washing his hands.

"Right here? Now?" Harry cried. "Someone could walk in at any minute!"

Draco muttered something under his breath and the inside of the door turned silver. "It's

locked," he said. "Now come here."

"Draco, are you sure?" Harry was hesitant. Sure there were spells on the door, but snogging in the middle of the prefects bathroom in the middle of the school day?

"You damn Gryffindors and your morals and values. Such boring people." Draco stepped forward and pulled Harry into a searing kiss, purposely using his hips to create friction that made Harry moan. Draco was going to have fun.

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"Harry, are you alright? You look a bit flustered," Ron said as he moved textbooks off the seat next to him so Harry could sit down. "I think you're getting sick- you've been kinda red all day."

Harry breathlessly plopped down. Draco had definitely repaid the favor, and Harry desperately hoped that along with the locking charm Draco had cast a silencing charm on the door.

"I lost track of time during the break," Harry said, which wasn't entirely a lie. "Had to rush to get here on time. How'd things go with Hermione?" Harry asked, trying to steer the conversation away from himself.

Ron frowned. "Not so good. You know her- she couldn't survive unless she passed all her classes with over a hundred and fifty percent or more. Next time, remind me not to do anything except light the fire."

Harry smiled sympathetically. "She'll get over it by lunch. Just give her a chance to blow off some academic steam in Arithmancy."

"Ah, welcome class, to another year of looking into the future. This summer as I gazed I saw each of you returning to Hogwarts a happy and excited student, ready to enter my class with a thirst to learn," Trelawny drawled as she emerged from the curtains adorning the walls.

"Yea, she knew we'd be coming back," Ron whispered. "We registered for this class last year." Harry snickered, but felt a stab of guilt as he remembered the prophecy, and that Trelawny wasn't a complete fraud.

"This year we'll be studying the art of dream interpretation in depth, and using the tools we have practiced with to delve into the deeper mind-sets of these dreams. Now, if you could please turn to chapter one in _Dream Interpretation: What Your Subconscious Is Saying . . ._" Harry flipped to the page and zoned out.

"Oh, this is sure to be interesting," Seamus muttered. "What those 'special' dreams really mean . . ."

The rest of the day passed quickly, with Herbology and Transfiguration in the afternoon. In each class all the sixth and seventh year students received long lectures about their upcoming N.E.W.T.'s, and a load of homework to "set them on the path to a successful grade that will effect their career," as Professor McGonagall explained to the groaning class.

By dinner, it seemed that everyone (with the exception of Hermione, who was talking non-stop about just how exciting her classes were) was wiped out from the first day. Even Ron ate dinner at a slower pace than usual, yawning in-between bites.

"I can't _wait_ to get back to the common room and start on McGonagall's essay," Hermione gushed, writing all her assignments down in her homework book. "Oh, and we have that prefect meeting tonight, don't forget," she said, glancing at Ron and Draco for a brief moment before returning to her furious scribbles.

Ron groaned and threw his fork down. "I'm too exhausted to go. I'll be falling asleep during the meeting." As if to emphasize his prediction, another wide yawn stretched across his face and left his eyes watering.

"Ron, you have a duty to be a prefect that–"

"–That I chose when I accepted the badge, I _know_, Hermione," Ron said with exasperation. "I just wish that one of our rules was that we got more sleep."

Harry kept silent as he ate his way through his shepherd's pie, fighting to keep his own eyelids open, and jumped when he felt an elbow in his side.

"You gunna make it up the stairs?" Draco said quietly, noticing Harry's peaky condition.

"You look worn out."

"I had to spend a little more energy than I would have liked to today," Harry said, glaring pointedly at Draco. The blonde was unfazed and just grinned back.

"Draco, you coming?" Ron said as he stood from the table. "The meeting starts in ten minutes."

"Yea, I'll catch up with you in a sec," he said. Discreetly he reached under the table and squeezed Harry's hand. "See you tonight," he whispered, then walked quickly out to meet Ron and Hermione.

Harry was partly grateful that he had the evening to himself, as he was too tired to keep up appearances for his friends. Excusing himself early from the meal, and waving away Seamus' curious look, Harry headed for the dorms. He knew he should get a head start on his assignments, but they weren't due for a few days. Harry thought of riding his Firebolt for a while, then remembered the new restrictions, and instead settled on heading off through the Porthole to claim a few hours extra rest before Draco came by.

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Harry woke moments before Draco entered the room, rolling over and squinting at the light beneath the door before flopping back down on the pillows.

"You must have been really tired to actually go to sleep early," Draco said with a yawn as he practically fell onto the bed beside Harry.

"Looks like you could do with some sleep, yourself," Harry said groggily. "What time is it?"

"It's nearing eleven," came the answer.

"What were you doing up so late?" Harry exclaimed. "Why didn't you come to bed sooner?"

"I wanted to finish a couple assignments before I came up," Draco explained with a yawn. "So I'm not up all night tomorrow."

"I was pooped, couldn't take it anymore, so I just came up here and went to bed," Harry

said as he snuggled into Draco. "Now, I'd like to go back to bed."

"No action?" Draco asked hopefully.

"No action, too tired."

"Do I at least get a goodnight kiss?"

"Of course." Harry lightly brushed his lips against Draco's.

"That was pathetic."

"But I'm _tired_," Harry whined.

"Lazy prick," Draco mumbled as he pulled Harry back in for a longer, deeper kiss.

"Mmm, that was nice," Harry whispered into the hollow of Draco's neck.

"Yea, it was."

"See you in the morning?"

"Yea. Don't leave without me."

"I won't."

"'Night, Harry."

"'Night, Draco."

So, what comes after Chapter Nine?

A major plot twist, that's what! Within the next twenty four hours, you'll see what I mean.

Review, por favor.


	10. Altered Perspectives

****

Here it is, my lovely fans

The long awaited chapter ten

Although life's been a confusing dance

I've had time to write now and then

So here we are, finally

After waiting many weeks

Through computer problems frequently

A smile can stretch your flushè d cheeks

Do not worry, do not fret

Chapter eleven is on its way

The story has awhile yet

And will continue day by day

You've stuck with me through thick and thin

You been devoted through it all

What a joy you have been

Without you _Spellbound_ would surely fall

All acknowledgements are at the end

Keep on reading, my dear friend

You've read it before, but I'll say it again

Inylan doesn't own this. End.

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"Ah, yes, now that you are all here," said Dumbledore, smiling at the four students assembled in his office. "Time to talk Quidditch."

Harry glanced around. It was Tuesday, and he had been pulled out of Divination for the Quidditch meeting Dumbledore had promised at the opening feast. Draco, of course, was there, but Harry didn't know the other two captains by name. The Hufflepuff captain, a tall girl with chestnut hair and a round face, was eyeing Harry and Draco warily, but with a smile on her face. The Ravenclaw captain, a shorter girl with extremely blonde hair was watching them both with a look of interest, but showed no other facial expression.

"First things first. Harry, Draco, this is Lucy Baker, from Ravenclaw, and this would be Alanna Jordan, from Hufflepuff." The girls smiled at each other, then at the boys. "Alanna, Lucy, this is Harry Potter of Gryffindor, and Draco Malfoy of Slytherin. Now, on to the next order of business."

For the next few hours the four captains and the headmaster worked out a schedule for booking the Quidditch pitch, arranged the best weekends for games around their other activities, and discussed the basic rules that needed to be enforced.

"Hogwarts will be adding a new rule this year," said Dumbledore, his voice quickly losing all sense of triviality. "Any games that go on too far into the night, after seven o' clock, or are scheduled to take place in harsh weather conditions, will be postponed and continued later. With the war, we cannot provide any situations where all the players cannot be seen at all times. All games will be rescheduled, but we are not risking the injury of a student over a sport, no matter how important it may be."

Harry and Draco glanced at each other. They knew that this rule was put into effect for their sakes, and both felt guilty for forcing the headmaster to alter the rules of Quidditch for their safety. Harry felt his anger start to boil, but it dissipated as Dumbledore announced the next order of business.

"Now, I know that for the past few years the teams have been concerned with the condition of the school's racing brooms that we provide for the students who cannot afford their own. Upon Madame Hooch's inspection, we have ordered enough Nimbus 1700's to supply all the teams."

All four captains burst into to joyous cheers, and Harry even let out a whoop of joy, making the other four laugh.

Dumbledore launched into a long, drawn out explanation of how the brooms were to be cared for and each leased to a student through a contract, since they were new. The rest of the meeting revolved around politics, house relations and keeping the peace without losing the spirit of the rivalries, and general Quidditch talk. Tryouts were for the captains to decide, using their time on the field, but needed to be held within the next two weeks.

Walking out of Dumbledore's office at the start of lunch, Harry was a non-stop fountain of Quidditch talk. Draco wasn't much better: both were in a heated discussion about which professional teams had the best chances of winning that year, and whether it was better to switch teams depending on who was winning or stay loyal to one even when they were known for their losing streak. Ron and Seamus joined their conversation as they sat down at the table, with Dean muttering about wizards never understanding football.

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"Hey Ginny, can I talk to you for a second?" Harry asked as they worked on their homework in the common room. Ginny raised an eyebrow, but stood up and followed Harry to a quiet corner.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Nah, nothing's wrong, unless you include my Potions grade." Harry made a face. "I wanted to ask you if you were planning on trying out for the Quidditch team."

Ginny looked shocked. "Me?" she asked. "I wasn't planning on it. Why?"

"Well, after watching you play this summer, I think you'd make a great Chaser." Harry watched Ginny's face as she mulled this over.

"Tryouts are next Tuesday, right?" she inquired. "And we do have the Quidditch pitch Friday afternoon and Saturday morning?"

"Yea. I'm opening it up to all Gryffindors who know how to use a broom and are planning to try out for the team. I thought they might want to get some practice in instead of going out for the team cold."

Ginny shrugged. "What the hell. I'll do it." She turned to go back to her seat, and Harry joined Ron and Hermione where they were working on their Potions assignment.

"What was that about, Harry?" Hermione asked, not glancing up from her parchment.

"Oh, I just wanted to talk to Ginny about trying out for one of the Chaser positions on the Quidditch team."

"She's going to, right?" Ron asked, looking up from the essay. "I've been working on some strategies, but they involve her flying style--"

"You've been working on strategies?" Harry cut in. "You haven't shown me any."

"I, well . . ." Ron said, blushing. "I wasn't quite done yet, and some of them are really pathetic. They're not worth much, just some ideas I was messing around with."

"While you should have been doing your homework," Hermione interjected, talking around the quill in her mouth. "If you spent as much time on your homework as you do on Quidditch--"

"Uh, how 'bout you come up and see those drawings?" Ron interrupted hastily, before Hermione could continue her tirade. "They're in the dorm."

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Although the strategies needed a bit of tweaking, Harry had to admit that the plays were ingenious.

"How did you come up with these?" Harry exclaimed, looking over one that involved a combined Porskoff Ploy and Reverse Pass while the Beaters faked Sloth Grip Rolls and slammed the Bludgers at the opposing team.

"Well, when History of Magic ceases to be interesting, I just doodle, and this is what comes out of it." Ron shrugged. "It's nothing, really."

Harry was still amazed. He had been thinking of Quidditch strategies since he had accepted his Captainship, but he hadn't invented anything as original, or as unanticipated, as the surplus of plays that Ron had done in his spare time.

"Ron, did you say you were going to try out for the team this year?" Harry asked, an idea forming in his mind.

Ron frowned. "I don't think so. I've gotten better, but I just can't function with everyone

watching me. Guess I just have bad case of stage fright."

"Well, if you want, you could be our strategist," Harry suggested.

An expression of disbelief anchored itself on Ron's face. "What?!"

"Well, we're going to need a new playbook, especially since the level of competition has been raised a few notches this year. Plus, you pick up all of the players' flying habits just by watching, and . . ." Harry started.

"And from that we can build a whole new strategy!" Ron grabbed a spare sheaf of parchment and began writing all his ideas down.

Harry grinned. "Oh, and you can help me pick who's going to make the team."

Ron let out a whoop and raced down the stairs to the common room with Harry close on his heels. Against Hermione's protests, they packed up their homework and spread out their Quidditch papers on the table, working with vigor until the embers of the fire had been reduced to ash.

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"Mm, you're late," Draco said as Harry crawled into bed. "What took you so long?"

"Ron and I were discussing Quidditch strategies. All that chess playing of his really pays off." Harry snuggled into Draco, shivering as the cool arms wrapped around his bare torso. "We're going to smash you this season."

"Sure. I'm captain this year, and the team will be making a few changes. New rule number one: no Death Eaters on the team."

Harry laughed. "So . . . You're going to be the only one on the team?"

Draco scowled. "Thanks. Make me feel really secure, why dontcha?"

"Oh, come off it." Harry scooted closer to Draco and wrapped him arms around the pale, naked chest. "So really, who are you going to choose for the team?"

Draco shrugged into the darkness. "Depends on who tries out. There are quite a few

Slytherins who aren't totally evil, just completely devious, like me."

"And these people would be . . . "

"Bletchy isn't that bad, although he has an attitude, but he's a good Keeper. And that girl who was sitting with Ginny, she can swing a bat pretty hard. She had some family that was Muggle born, and her cousins taught her how to play softball. Just watching her hit the ball was scary."

Harry sat up. "You allowed someone with Muggle blood in their family to be a Slytherin?"

"We didn't allow her, dimwit," Draco said, pulling Harry back down. "The Sorting Hat did."

"Oh, right," Harry said, concentrating on the feel of skin on skin. "Sorting hat, gotcha."

"Yes, the Sorting Hat," Draco murmured against Harry's cheek. A pink tongue darted out against the darkened cheek, swirling and licking along the jaw line. After a few moments it was captured by a pair of lips and urgently invited to explore Harry's mouth.

Harry lightly trailed the pads of his fingers down the inside of Draco's forearm, causing the blonde to shiver and move closer to the perpetrator. Harry tightened his grip around Draco's waist, pressing himself forward until they were so close nary a phoenix feather could be slipped between them, pale silver stands tangled with thick, dark locks, and bodies entwined so one could not tell where one boy ended and the other began.

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"Where in the world is Snape?" Ron asked. "This is the third time this week he's been late."

"Silence," Snape drawled, appearing in the doorway without warning. The chattering immediately ceased, the students' eyes following their professor as he made his way to the front of the classroom.

"Your assignment last night was to read over the potions most commonly used by Aurors to go undercover. Can anybody tell me the properties of the Proteus Draught?" Sharp beetle-eyes scanned the room, resting on Draco's raised hand. "Mr. Malfoy?"

"The Proteus Draught takes its name from the effects caused by this dangerous potion. It causes the drinker to take the shape and experience the thoughts of the other while still maintaining their own train of thought, disconcerting as it may be. It is related to the weaker Polyjuice Potions, which only allows the drinker to take the shape of another." Draco shifted his gaze to Harry, who kicked him under the table, before continuing. "It is a very effective potion, prized for its twenty-four hour duration when brewed in its most potent form. Aurors use it for undercover work often because the ingredients are abundant and the brewing procedure is fairly simple."

The corners of Snape's mouth twitched. "Very good, Mr. Malfoy. Five points to Slytherin. The Proteus Draught is much too potent in its regular form to trust into the hands of children such as yourselves, and Merlin knows what havoc you would wreak with it if you could brew it. Therefore, we will be making a diluted version. You will prepare the ingredients outside of class, concoct the potion next class period, and add the runes and spells the period after . . ."

"Great," Harry heard Ron mutter. "More homework."

Snape sent a withering glance in Ron's direction. "This potion requires a small amount of time to ferment. Now, I have altered the ingredients listed in your book, seeing as they were inadequate and not quite advanced enough. The list is on the board, as are the altered directions. You have the rest of class to begin your work. A two roll essay on the history of this potion is due at the beginning of next class period, starting with its initial use in the Giant wars . . ."

Harry groaned inwardly. Not only was it the first class of the day, with Snape, but now he also had enough homework to drown in, counting the assignments he had neglected last night, and he hadn't been able to spend any time with Draco in the past few days. Harry's day was off to a very bad start.

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Divination found Harry flipping through _Dream Interpretation _as he fought to keep his eyes open. "I don't need to decode my dreams," he muttered. "When I have them, it's obvious: I dream about ice cream because I am hungry."

"Oh, it's not that bad," Ron said. Harry stared at him, mouth agape. "I mean, it could be worse. We could be doing tea leaves again. Plus, I think it's kind of interesting to see what our mind is really telling us."

Harry waved a hand in front of Ron's face. "Hello? You alright? I think Hermione slipped something into your drink this morning. You _hate_ this class."

"I don't hate it, not anymore." Ron looked thoughtful. "No. I hate the really stupid things, like tea leaves and crystal balls and stuff, but this is wicked. This is about seeing what's going on within us, and we don't even know about it."

Harry mused over what Ron had said, then realized he what he was doing. "Um, sure. So, what does your dream mean?"

"Well, I had a dream about floating down a river in a boat, and then my friends were drowning . . . the river means that I'm ready to get rid of some feelings. That makes sense; I'm ready to get rid of all this anxiety and just tell Hermione that I like her. The drowning means I'm going under, losing all I had, or big ruin ahead. And all of this is water, emotions, which also makes a lot of sense." He paused and frowned. "I don't like the drowning, though. Why would all my friends be headed for ruin?"

Harry fidgeted. He was discomforted by Ron's interpretation, and realized that although it took Ron a while to get things, his best friend's subconscious wasn't as imperceptive as he had thought it was.

"Now, what about your dream?" Ron said, grinning. "I bet that ice cream really has a deeper meaning."

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Harry spent the remainder of the week observing the Gryffindors that took advantage of the open pitch. One had to admit that the talent among this year's selection was enormous, and Harry was glad to have Ron by his side to choose among the myriad of students.

"See there," Ron said through a mouthful of pumpkin pasty on Saturday afternoon. "That small boy, riding the Cleansweep? His broom is slower than mine, but he has real technique. I've never seen a seventh year pull off a Starfish and Stick with that much precision. Granted, it's still a bit sloppy . . . "

Harry grinned. "Maybe I should just let you select the team."

"What? No!" Ron frowned. "I want to help, yes, but I don't want to take over."

"Having fun?" Harry and Ron turned to see Draco heading towards them. The blonde glanced up at the sky, his eyes raking over the players. "Not a bad selection. Not quite as good as what we have, though."

"Oh, stop the scare tactics and sit down," Harry said, smacking his boyfriend on the shoulder. "What brings you out into the sun, Mr. Studyholic?"

"I am not a studyholic. I just happen to actually care whether I graduate or not." Draco smirked at Harry, who just stuck his tongue out at him and turned to watch the players once again. "I just wanted to stop by and view the competition, get an idea of what we're up against this year."

"So, in other words, snooping," Ron said, frowning.

"If you want to give it a negative connotation, yes," Draco said. "You're welcome to snoop at the Slytherin tryouts if you want."

"That's alright. We don't need to know what you're doing to win."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"If you two are going to keep bickering," Harry said, standing up, "I am not sitting between you. Plus, I want to go down to the pitch and talk to a few of the students."

"Mind if I come with you?" Draco said, also rising. "I promise I won't try to mutilate any of the players."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yea, come on. You coming, Ron?"

Ron glanced at the sky before he answered. "Nah, I think I'll stay here for a few minutes and see if I can find any more players that work well with that one Keeper. I like his style."

The two captains walked side by side in silence as they headed down the stairs to the pitch. Once out of sight, Draco ambushed Harry and pressed him up against the wall, trapping him with his body.

"What's this all about?" Harry asked, squirming. "I need to go talk to the players."

"You don't _need_ to do anything," Draco said, warm breath ghosting over Harry's skin, cooled by the early fall winds. The contrasting temperatures sent shudders through Harry who instinctively pressed closer to Draco for warmth. "I haven't had you alone and awake for days now, and you practically die each night when we go to bed. It's nice just to see you for once."

Harry smiled, burying his head in Draco's shoulder and inhaling the familiar scent. "Yea, I've been caught up in Quidditch to the point where it's all I know," he admitted, voice muffled by the thick sweater he was speaking into. "Just give me until after Tuesday, alright? Then we can find some time to get together."

Draco placed a soft kiss in Harry's hair, then took him by the hand and started walking towards the pitch. They broke apart seconds before they came into view, scanning the sky above them with the calculating gaze of seasoned players.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"Slytherin is going to kick your butt this year."

"Sure, Blondie."

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"Draco, get that Arithmancy book off the table and eat something!" demanded Harry, snatching the heavy text out from the other boy's nose. It was Monday, the final day of working on their Proteus potions, and while everyone else was hurriedly reviewing the runes and spells, Draco was reading ahead and not paying attention to the food surrounding him.

"Just because I'm doing some studying before class does not mean I'm not going to eat," he said. To prove his point, he shoved half of a chocolate muffin in his mouth and glared at Harry. "Affy ow? Gih ee i oo." He reached out to grab it, but Harry just passed him a goblet of pumpkin juice, smirking.

"He's a regular ol' Hermione, isn't he?" asked Dean, who was surveying the scene with mild interest. "Always has his face stuck in some book."

"Yea, but usually the books are Dark Magic," muttered a fourth year sitting next to Ron, who promptly turned and smacked the student upside the head.

"I am the only one allowed to make comments like that," said the red head, glaring at the scowling boy. he leaned over and dropped his voice. "Just give him a chance. He's not that bad. Good to have on your side, really."

The boy stared at Ron openmouthed. "You, of all people, I never expected to accept that slimy git. What is wrong with the lot of you?" The boy stood up and stomped off.

"What just happened?" asked Harry, who had caught the last sentence. "Who's that?"

"Oh, just some whiny brat who couldn't keep his mouth shut," Ron said, avoiding Harry's gaze. "Just stirring up trouble."

Harry shrugged and turned back to Draco. "You ready to go to class?"

"Harry! We still have a good fifteen minutes before we even need to leave!" Ron exclaimed. "Why in the world do you want to go to Potions early?"

"We need the entire period to finish the Potion, so we're going to set up early." Harry gathered up his bag and Draco's Arithmancy book. "See you there in a few minutes."

"Yea, see you." Ron was giving Harry a funny look, but Seamus was poking him in the side and shoving the latest edition of the Cannon's owl-order catalog in his face, so his attention was quickly shifted.

Once they were out of the Great Hall, Draco stopped Harry. "Alright, what's going on? You know that we don't need any extra time for our potion, AND you force fed me like the food was going to disappear if I didn't inhale it. What are you trying to do?"

Harry smiled. "Just follow me. I want to talk to you, but I couldn't do it in there, and I can't do it here. We need somewhere more private."

Draco's eyes lit up. "The prefects' bathroom?"

"There is no way in hell I am going there with you again. I don't trust you with that bathroom." Harry shook his head. "No, this is a little more serious. Just come on."

Draco raised an eyebrow, then caught up with Harry, who was walking quickly towards the dungeons.

"So, do I get any hints about what this whole serious talk is about?" Draco frowned. "It's not bad serious, is it? Like you're going to tell me that I'm a lousy kisser and Weasley knows all your hot spots, right?"

Harry made a face, shuddered, then laughed. "No, Draco, I wouldn't let you go if I had the choice, especially not for Ron. He's one of my best friends, not . . .like you and me. Plus, he likes Hermione."

Draco smiled, then fluttered his eyelashes and raised his voice a few octaves. "Oh, I feel _so_ loved. Come here, my little sweetums." He reached out his arms motioning for Harry to come closer. Harry, who thought Draco was only kidding, was promptly tackled when he didn't respond, ending up on his back with Draco on top of him.

"I said come here." Draco's voice was back to it's deep growl, and Harry flushed as Draco's warm breath ghosted over his cheeks. "And when I say to do something, you should obey."

Harry laughed. "Are you trying to be dominant?"

Draco sat back on Harry's stomach, frowning. "You mean I'm not?" When Harry didn't reply, Draco smirked. "Doesn't seem like you're in much of a position to say anything about it."

"And you're in the perfect position to do something about it," Harry said coyly, closing his eyes as Draco leaned down to kiss him. Tongues probed, teeth nibbled, and lips ravished for a good minute before either of them broke contact.

"You should probably get off me, seeing as the rest of the school is scheduled to come barreling down this corridor in, oh, two minutes," said Harry pushing Draco off him. "Plus, I still haven't talked to you."

"Hmm, I just heard words coming out of your mouth that were directed towards me. Does that count as talking?" Draco ducked as Harry swung at him. "Fine, don't have a sense of humor."

"Whatever. Now, oh, wait, this isn't right." Draco was brushing nonexistent flecks of dust off his robes, but Harry grabbed his wrists. "Look at me, stop moving, concentrate on me . . . Yes, thank you, that's it."

"Jeez, Harry, what is it? You're acting like a schoolgirl."

"You mean all kinky and slutty?"

"No, shy and wanting to make everything perfect."

"Because I've never done this before."

"Done what?"

Harry took a deep breath. "Draco, will you go to the Halloween Ball with me?"

Draco paused, then smiled. "Aww, is my boyfriend asking me to the dance?"

Harry blushed. "Yes," he muttered, the tips of his ears turning pink. His eyes were downcast, and he determinedly studied the pattern of worn bricks on the floor while waiting for Draco's response.

"Harry?" Harry looked up at the sound of his name and was met with two very warm, very hungry lips that gave him one of the most tender kisses he had ever experienced. Draco backed him up against the wall, one arm holding himself up and the other holding Harry's hand.

"So I'll take that as a yes," murmured Harry.

"Good guess." Draco nuzzled against Harry. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Being you." Harry felt that warm fuzzy feeling come over him again. Although he was getting used to it, it was still a little disconcerting, not to mention embarrassing once people noticed the goofy smile that came with it.

"Same to you, Blondie. Now get off me and fix your hair. I don't want everyone staring at you all class period because you have that amazingly sexy "just ravished" look. That look is reserved for me and me only."

Draco smiled coyly. "Ah yes, the overprotective boyfriend returns. Now lets go set up our cauldron before everyone gets here and asks what we've been doing for half an hour. Alone."

The boys entered the empty classroom and prepared their work station. The unfinished potions, which had been labeled and stored in the cupboard next to the cabinet with all the ingredients at the end of the last class, were now lined up on Snape's desk. Harry grabbed theirs, emptied it into the cauldron, and looked to Draco.

"So, what do we do now?" he asked. "Should we start the incantations?"

Draco sighed. "This is the reason you are so bad at Potions, Harry. You have absolutely no patience. The directions say to let the potion come to a boil, then say the incantations while tracing the runes in the surface with our wands. Plus, you should never make a potion without the supervision of someone who knows what he's doing, in case something goes wrong. We'll wait for Snape."

The rest of the class filtered in and set up before the bell rang, and the moment Snape stepped in the door and gave the signal to begin, the class began to buzz with activity.

"Ok, ready?" Draco asked, his wand poised above the purple liquid. "All we have to do is clearly say _Vicissitudo_ while tracing the runes dagaz and eihwaz on to the surface of the potion, and we should be finished." The boys performed the last step and watched as the potion slowly turned into a thick purple syrup.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter, congratulations. You are the only pair to have brewed the potion correctly thus far. Ten points to both your houses." Harry looked up to see Snape looking down at them with a look of surprise on his face. "Bottle your entire potion and bring it up to my desk. Clean up your station and wait for the other groups to finish, and then we can test yours."

"Did Snape just award points to Gryffindor?" Ron gaped. "That has to be a first."

Fifteen minutes later Snape called for all the potions to be handed in, to the disappointment of many students who hadn't finished or hadn't brewed their potion properly and were desperately trying to fix it.

"Mr.'s Malfoy and Potter were the only pair to correctly brew their potion," Snape announced to class once they had resumed their seats. "Therefore, we will be using theirs to demonstrate the effects of this potion. If I could have Mr. Malfoy and . . . Mr. Weasley please come to the front of the class."

Draco and Ron looked at each other with despair and shock. Ron was mortified, Harry could see it written all over his face.

Both boys approached the front of the room with caution, as if abstaining from contact with the other would make the ordeal less painful.

"Now, if I could get each of you to sacrifice a hair or two, please." The expression on Snape's face told of the immense joy he was getting out of Ron's displeasure. Filling two vials, he slipped the hairs into each, and handed them to their respective students. "Now, the transformation is confusing, because you will go blind for the few seconds it takes for your body to adjust, but it will not be painful. The effects will last for about fifteen minutes. Cheers."

Draco and Ron both sent looks of pure hatred at their professor, then downed the vials in one gulp. Draco handed the vial back to Snape, but Ron just dropped his.

"That stuff is vile!" he exclaimed, disgust twisting his features. "It tastes like molten metal! It's- ugh - is that my voice?"

Ron stopped. His voice had risen a few notes, and his skin was lightening. Looking up was like looking into a distorted mirror: each boy saw the other, but himself, and slowly they morphed into exact images. The entire class was howling in laughter, and both victims looked miserable.

"Thank you for being such good volunteers. You may take your seats." Snape didn't even bother to repress his smirk, and sat down behind his desk with an evil look in his eyes.

"I feel like a bloody tree I'm so bloody tall," Draco muttered as he took his seat next to Harry and buried his face in his hands. "Why me? Now I can't stop thinking about Hermione. This is _not _normal. Oh, that would be good for blackmail . . ."

"Oh, shit." Harry said, alarm bells ringing in his mind. "Draco, if you can't stop thinking about Hermione, that means Ron can't stop thinking about me." Draco looked up, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

"Oh fucking hell," he said under his breath. "Almost forgot about that. This is not good."

"No, it's not." Harry miserably picked up his schoolbag as the bell rang, trudging through the door. "Let's just hope he doesn't think too much about it."

"Yea." Draco sighed. "I'm just going to go to class. I'll see you at lunch, okay?"

Harry smiled wanly. "Yea, See you."

"Hey, Harry." Harry froze as he head Draco's voice, or Ron-as-Draco's voice, right behind him. Turning, he plastered a smile on his face.

"Hey Ron. Ready for Divination?" Harry turned and started off for the tower at a brisk pace, trying to put as much distance between them as possible.

"Harry, wait, we have half an hour, don't walk so fast!" Ron jogged to catch up. "This is so weird. I feel like . . . I dunno, like I'm too full. I'm experiencing Draco's feelings, but my own at the same time, and it's confusing."

A glimmer of hope pierced the dread inside Harry. Maybe, if Ron was confused, he wouldn't be able to decipher what Draco was feeling towards him.

"It's getting a little better, though. His thoughts are a bit more sarcastic and have a lot to do with you, while mine don't use the word bloody so much."

Or maybe not.

"Snape is such an arse," Harry muttered under his breath, running his hands through his hair.

"And you are really sexy when you do that." Harry looked at Ron, who was holding both hands over his mouth.

"What?" Harry swallowed hard. "What did you just say?"

"I'm sorry. I opened my mouth to agree with you and that just popped out. It was what Draco would have said." Ron frowned. "Why would he think that?"

Harry paled, then turned off down the corridor. "I don't know. He's always been a bit different."

"Yea." They walked in awkward silence for a few minutes, Harry not daring to look at Ron/Draco.

"I have the sudden urge to kiss you right now," Ron stated, matter-of-fact. "Why would Draco want to kiss you?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" Harry said, turning around and yelling at his friend. "It's not like I can read his every thought!"

"Whoa," said Ron/Draco, stepping forward to put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I didn't mean to upset you." He lifted his hand and turned Harry's face towards him. "You alright?"

"Yea, I'm fine. The Proteus thing is just bugging me. I can't tell if it's you or Draco thinking."

"Usually it's me, but Draco's thoughts and willpower are pretty strong." At these words, Harry looked up, his eyes locking with Ron/Draco's silver ones. "I don't think I can battle them too much longer."

"Ron, the potion only lasts a few more minutes, hang on." Harry tried to step away from the pseudo-blonde, but Ron backed him up against the wall.

"Ron! It's me, Harry! You like Hermione! Stop, don't, mmph." Ron silenced Harry by gently kissing him full on the mouth. Harry's thoughts were screaming at him. It felt like Draco, tasted like Draco, in most senses it was Draco, and Harry's contact-starved body was screaming for more. But there was something missing, something that just wasn't right.

__

It's the fact that this person is not your boyfriend! his mind yelled.

Harry bit back a moan as Ron started licking a trail down his neck, sucking at the smooth curve of his collarbone. One of Ron's hands was tangled in raven locks, the other holding Harry's shoulder against the wall. Harry was pinned.

"Draco, I mean, Ron, no, _stop_," Harry managed before Ron's hand slid up his shirt. When the front of his robes had been undone, he didn't know, but his body was reacting in all the right ways, which just made him more frustrated.

"Harry," Ron whispered, returning his attention to Harry's lips, "You are so bloody attractive it's ridiculous." Ron began to ravish Harry's vulnerable mouth, gently scraping his teeth across Harry's lower lip and using his hands to pull Harry closer.

Harry closed his eyes. In his position, pushing Ron/Draco off his was impossible. Still, he tried, but to no avail.

"You know you like this," Ron/Draco murmured. "I can feel it."

Harry grimaced. _Shit. Not good._

Suddenly, something was different. Ron lifted his head from Harry's, Harry felt Ron's fingers growing thicker, but not much longer, his body sprouting a few inches, the texture of his hair changing. Harry thought for sure that this was the end, that now Ron would step away and let Harry compose himself. He was wrong.

"Ron, do y'think you could get off me?" Harry said, his voice quiet.

"Ugh. I feel like I've been hit over the head with a tree." Ron collapsed against Harry, who was silently cursing any higher powers that might exist. "What happened?"

"Yes, I'd like to know that, too."

Harry, without having to peer around the red hair covering his face, knew that the voice belonged to Draco, that Draco had seen, and that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, was officially screwed.

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What'll happen next? What'll Draco say? Does Ron remember anything?

Like I'm telling you before I write the next chapter.

Answers to Reviews:

AsTheyreFalling: Just curious- where did you hear of _Spellbound_? I just like to know who mentions my stuff and where. J And from now on, updates will be more frequent.

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SaFire flamE: Wow- you reviewed almost every single chapter before I could get this up! I love the questions- it makes my little cliffhangers worthwhile!

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Starrarose: Gracias- I can't stand the "must edit" thing. Fortunately, I have my own little site to post on, thank God.

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Cherry0214: Begging? On knees? Yea, that gets me to write a bit faster! If you need to occupy yourself while waiting (yea, long chapters take awhile to write, sorry) check out my favorites lists- plenty of great H/D stuff there. J

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Slytherinkid07: Thanks for the edit. I told you guys that I can't type for beans . . .

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PeachDancer82: I had to make it a little non-canon, but it works out pretty well. There's tons more planned, I just have to get on with writing it!

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Review, please, as always. Oh, and if anyone would like to be a beta reader for me, someone who can proofread stuff and preferably get it back within 48 hours, just let me know in a review or an e-mail.

¡ Adios mis amigos!


	11. Back and Forth

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Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone! Thanks to my lovely Bets, saFire flamE, you get the best Christmas present I can give you: the next updated chapter of _Spellbound._ I'll be quiet now, so you can enjoy you're Christmas treat, and I'll answer reviews at the bottom.

Disclaimer: I don't know how Harry Potter ends, therefore, I can't be JKR.

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"Hey, Draco," Harry managed, Ron still clinging to him. His face had lost all of it's color, and the glare Draco was sending at him could have made even the most stoic Gryffindor cringe. "I guess the Potion finally wore off."

"Yes, I believe it did." Draco had his arms crossed over his chest, his mouth pursed into a thin, bloodless line. "I was just coming back to get my Arithmancy book that you confiscated this morning."

"Harry," Ron mumbled, standing up. "What the bloody hell just happened?"

"Hold on, Ron," Harry said. He took a few steps forward, trying to make it so that Ron couldn't overhear, but Draco just moved back.

"Look, it's not what it looks like," Harry said, his voice soft. "The potion--"

"Whatever, Potter. Can I just have my book?"

"Draco, please--"

"Harry, what's going on?"

"Not now Ron."

"The book?" Draco said in a cold, polite tone.

"Harry--" Ron hissed warningly.

"Draco, will you just listen to me for a bloody minute--"

"I DON'T CARE IF YOU WERE SNOGGING THE FUCKING WEASEL, JUST GIVE ME MY DAMNED ARITHMANCY BOOK!" Draco roared, lunging forward. Harry shakily drew the text out of his bag, handing it to Draco with an unsteady hand. Draco wasn't his normal composed self, red patches flaring on his pale cheeks. Harry thought he glimpsed a shining wetness in Draco's eyes before the blonde turned and marched off down the hall.

"Harry?" Harry turned to see Ron leaning against the wall, expression twisted into a mask of angry confusion. "What the hell just happened there, mate?"

Harry studiously glared at the floor. He hoped that maybe, just maybe, Ron hadn't picked up on the phrase Draco had uttered right before storming off.

"We were snogging?"

No such luck.

Harry nodded, not looking up. "Yea, while you were still under the potion's effects, you gave in to Draco's feelings and started kissing me."

There was a tense silence, with only the sound of the portraits' chatter echoing off the walls.

"Harry, you and Draco are dating." It was a statement, filled with desperation and disbelief and betrayal.

"Ron, I--"

"No, I should have seen it before." Ron pushed himself off the wall but continued to keep a safe distance from Harry. "It was so obvious - you two shared the same bed, always spent time together, both always decided to break away from the group or stay at home while the rest of us went somewhere. Merlin, when Fred and George had the Spin the Bottle game going you both really went at it because you wanted to, am I right?"

Harry barely nodded, a nervous burn invading his cheeks, his breathing becoming heavier. He could hear himself, the blood rushing through his ears with every heartbeat, the heavy pant of his inhaling and exhaling.

"Look, Ron, I should have told you before -"

"Damn right you should have!" Ron threw down the heavy Divination book he had been carrying, his face contorted into a mask of fury. "Why the hell wouldn't you trust me with this Harry? Why? Why Malfoy?"

"I don't know," Harry replied, his voice barely a whisper. "I don't know why I've a done a lot of things these past few months."

"I can't believe you," Ron muttered, gathering up his things. "I cannot believe any of this. I cannot believe . . . Oh Merlin, I snogged a _guy_. Oh jeez, this is so wrong." He began walking towards Divination, all the while grumbling to himself.

Harry paused, then ran after him. "Ron, wait." He halted as Ron stopped dead and whirled around, an expression of utmost anger distorting his normally friendly face.

"Don't you come near me, Potter. Don't even bother sitting with me in Divination. I don't want to see you. Ever. Again."

Harry froze, his mouth hanging open. Ron's figure gradually retreated down the hallway and up the staircases, but Harry didn't budge.

"Young man, you should hurry on, you're going to be late for class," advised one of the more pompous looking portraits. "You wouldn't want that to happen."

"Oh no," Harry muttered sarcastically under his breath. "Being late is such a horrible thing. Worst thing in the world." The portrait made an indignant and fled to complain to another painting.

Harry barely realized where his footsteps were taking him as he fell deep into thought, his mind running over the past ten minutes.

__

How can so many things happen within such a short period of time? he asked. _Everything gone, just because Snape wanted to pull a stupid little joke._

Harry did a double take, almost dropping his books in the process. _Snape didn't do that as a joke; he purposely did it to expose Draco and me. And it worked!_

Shaking with anger, Harry turned around and ducked into the nearest deserted classroom, dumping his book in a corner and sprawling out lengthwise of top of a desk. The dust he had sent swirling into the air tickled his nose and caught the pale sunlight streaming in through the dirty window, but Harry noticed none of it.

__

Dumbledore must have told the faculty about the Portholes. Maybe he said something about Draco and me when he did.

Harry mentally scratched that off the list - he didn't think Dumbledore would be one to spread gossip.

__

Maybe it's the way Draco and I have acted lately. We've been spending a lot of time together, and . . . THAT DAY IN POTIONS!

"Shit," Harry groaned, mentally berating himself. "Snape must have seen what Draco was doing to me. That bloody--" Harry continued a colorful string of curses. Eventually he heard a mob of voices flow down the corridor, and he heard Ron's unmistakable baritone mixed with Hermione's alto. Neither sounded pleased.

Harry figured that morning classes were over, but not wanting to confront his friends, he avoided the Great Hall. Instead, he made his way towards the kitchens, bypassing Professor Trelawny on his way.

"Mr. Potter," she said, her voice sounding wounded. "I am glad I decided to venture to the Great Hall. I knew I would see you. Where were you this morning?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm sorry, Professor. I guess I lost track of time." Harry knew it was a lame excuse, but knowing Trelawny, she'd accept anything.

"Ah, yes, the balance of the powers of Mars and Jupiter have a disquieting effect on you this month. The powers above cannot be blamed for your disregard for the rules, mind you. Detention, tonight, in the tower. You will clean the tea cups."

"Yes, Professor." Harry watched as Trelawny floated off, then sighed in resignation.

The kitchens were a bustle of activity when Harry arrived, house elves constantly refilling and washing dishes and goblets. Within seconds, though, a small group of elves were handing Harry plates and goblets, setting up a place for him to eat, and asking him if there was anything else they could do.

"No, I'm perfectly fine, thank you all--"

"Harry Potter, sir!" Harry groaned inwardly at the sound of Dobby's squeaky voice, but turned to greet the elf.

"Hey Dobby," Harry said with a forced smile. "Nice socks."

Dobby was wearing several layers of socks on his feet, the outermost being a pair covered in what looked like monkey ants, several pairs with the toes cut out on his hands, and one around his neck like a tie. He also had on an oversized pair of corduroys and a large "Wicked Sisters" 1991 tour shirt from their Bristol concert. The overall effect was a walking pile of laundry belonging to a very diverse family.

"Thank you, sir!" Dobby squealed in response. "They were all presents from Professor Dumbledore sir last Christmas!" Dobby paused, gave Harry a searching look, and frowned. "Is there something wrong with Harry Potter, sir? Harry Potter does not look very happy."

Harry paused, knowing the chaos that had resulted from Dobby's "help" in situations before. "No, Dobby," he said. "I'm just having a bad day. I'll be fine."

Dobby nodded gravely, as if he was being trusted with an immense secret. "Dobby will remember this, sir. Dobby will not let any other things bother Harry today."

"NO!" Harry said loudly, causing several of the elves to jump and glare at Dobby. "No," he continued, much more quietly, "Everything will be fine. You just stay down here and do your job, alright?"

"Of course, sir! Anything for Harry Potter." Dobby watched silently as Harry finished his lunch, then happily cleaned up the plate and goblet. "Anything else Harry Potter needs, sir?"

__

Yea, a Time Turner and a very powerful memory charm.

"No, Dobby. You've been great." Harry gave another rather unconvincing smile, and Dobby pranced away grinning from ear to ear.

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Harry's afternoon classes were tough to endure with Ron and Hermione avoiding him left and right. He snuck a few glances over to Hermione's table in Herbology, catching her eye for a brief moment, but she looked away before he could start a conversation.

"Hey mate, get in some kind of fight with them?" Justin Finch-Fletchy asked, looking genuinely concerned. He was working with Harry, since Ron seemed to have informed all of Gryffindor's sixth year class of Harry's predicament.

"Yea." Harry went back to shredding his Bistort leaves, his hope of talking to Hermione before things blew out of proportion waning with each passing glance. In all truth, Harry felt like throwing his handful of leaves at Ron and stalking out of the greenhouse, but he reasoned that he'd rather not have another detention.

"Do you need to talk about it?" Justin asked, his voice carefully gentle. Harry mentally rolled his eyes.

He did need to talk about it, but his predicament wasn't something he was going to discuss Justin, no matter how caring, understanding, and sympathetic he would be.

Harry shook his head, the long strands of his raven hair grazing the top of his thin wire frames. "Nah. It'll blow over soon." _If pigs learn to fly within the next twenty-four hours._

On the way out the door, Harry tapped Hermione on the shoulder. Prepared for an unleashing of suppressed fury, Harry was shocked to find that the only expression on Hermione's face was shocked disappointment, the disappointment showing more clearly than the shock.

"Hermione." Harry waited for her response, nervously shifting from one foot to the other. He was vaguely aware of Ron searching for Hermione in the crowd, but thankfully, he hadn't seen him as of yet.

"Harry." Hermione stared at him, her chocolate eyes boring deep into his thoughts.

"You heard?"

"Ron told me."

"Oh."

"It wasn't a very pretty picture."

"Yea. I know."

A pause. "Hermione, I'm sorry."

"You should be."

"Are you angry?"

"A little. More disappointed."

"'Mione, could you ever forgive me?" Harry's eyes seemed to plead with her, begging for a second chance.

"Harry, I--"

"Hermione, why are you talking to him?" Harry turned to see Ron striding over to them, his shaggy hair blown back by the force of his stride. "I told you, he betrayed us. He's not worth talking to."

Harry saw Hermione shake her head, then give Ron an exasperated glare. "He didn't _betray_ us."

"Yes he did! He's dating a _Slytherin. _A_ boy._ _MALFOY!_"

"That doesn't indicate betrayal, Ron."

"He lied to us!"

At this Hermione fell silent, averting her gaze from either boys'. "Yes, he did do that, Ron."

Harry was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with his two friends (_Former friends? _he thought) talking about him in front of his face, but he was sure that if he disappeared now, he wouldn't have too many more chances to talk to Hermione without Ron interrupting.

"Hermione, we have to get to class." Ron grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her along after him, and Hermione threw a look over her shoulder that said "I need to talk to you later." Harry nodded, then walked with Justin back up to the castle.

Harry's dinner closely mimicked his lunch, a rushed meal in the busy kitchens with Dobby chattering away at light speed. Harry was grateful for the noise; he didn't have to pay close attention to his own distraught thoughts.

He found his way back to the deserted dorm with half an hour left until people returned from the day's third meal. Taking care not to leave anything behind, Harry crept through the Porthole without disturbing the sheets on his bed. He went to his own room, the one he hadn't slept in as of yet, and arranged everything as he would need it later that night. He then went back to the frame of his Porthole, flattening himself against the wall, and waited.

Harry heard the footsteps pounding up the tower stairs before the door was thrown open and the crowd of boys that normally occupied Harry's dorm thundered in.

"Ron, you can't be serious. Harry wouldn't do something like that," Dean said.

Harry could clearly hear all the voices, and he was glad he knew his dorm mates enough to distinguish between them.

"Well, he did. He's a bloody fag." Harry winced when he heard the malice that laced Ron's voice.

"Oh, come on now, that's going a wee bit overboard." Harry smiled as he hard Seamus' Irish brogue come floating through the window. At least one person was defending him.

"Just because he fancies boys doesn't mean he's a horrible person," stated Neville.

"Yea, I fancy boys." Harry suppressed a laugh. _That would be Seamus_.

"But you also like girls."

"Well, both are gorgeous."

"Anyways, Harry's preference shouldn't make or break your friendship, Ron. It's not like he's going after you." Desperate hope blossomed in Harry's chest as he heard Dean say this.

"Yea, but he went after Malfoy! That's disgusting!"

"Actually, Malfoy is _not_ a bad choice. In fact--"

"Seamus, shut up." Harry agreed with Neville on this one. He didn't need to hear people obsessing over his boyfriend, whether past or present.

"And on top of it all, he lied to us!" Harry felt the twisting knife slash open his stomach. He'd had his share of unknowingly being kept unknowingly in the dark, and he knew how it felt.

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room, and Harry heard several sighs as books were thrown in trunks.

"Yea. That definitely makes me feel like someone hit me over the head with a brick."

"Why would Harry do that?"

"Doesn't he trust us?"

"It's probably because of Malfoy's influence."

"Maybe there was something dangerous about telling people. You know, like, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named could use it for blackmail. Or that Rita Skeeter woman."

"Neville, will you stop sticking up for him? He's not worth it."

"Ron, maybe you should get the entire story before you blow up over this. Have you even heard Harry's side?"

"No, I haven't." His tone made it clear that he didn't want to, either.

"You should."

Harry heard heavy footsteps cross the room and the door open and slam, then more silence.

"Good going, Neville. Now _two_ of our dorm mates want nothing to do with us."

"Shut up, Seamus."

"Guys, stop. There's enough going on already, we don't need some stupid fight breaking up the three of us as well."

Harry left after Dean's last words, peering quietly through Draco's Porthole. There was no sign of life in the dark, emerald-decorated dungeon, so he went back to his room.

When he opened the door, he immediately found a piece of parchment covered in Hermione's tidy scrawl lying on top of his schoolbooks. Wondering as to how it got there, Harry picked it up and read over it quickly.

__

Harry--

I've only heard Ron's side of the story, and I'm afraid to make any assumptions before I hear your side, but as of right now, I don't know what to think.

"That makes two of us," Harry muttered to no one in particular.

__

I can't say that I completely accept your relationship with Draco. It isn't because I don't like him or trust him; he's proven himself both friendly and trustworthy numerous times. I'm just not used to the idea yet, especially in the way that it was presented to me. I need to talk to you before I come to a final conclusion about that.

I'm not angry, as I told you earlier. But I am disappointed. I'm disappointed that you didn't believe that Ron and I would accept you and Draco if you had just told us straight out when it all started. Friends don't hide things like that Harry - it's like not telling us that you finally defeated Voldemort, or something along those lines.

I'm pretty sure Ron feels the same way I do, but he's confusing his emotions. I can tell by looking at him that he's hurt more than he is angry or disgusted, but he doesn't want to acknowledge or admit it.

I can't tell you when I'll come to terms with all of this, or when the anger will dissipate. But I do want to talk to you face to face, though. Don't owl me back - I have a prefects meeting tonight and won't be able to respond, and I'd rather not have Parvati and Lavender opening my mail. I'll owl you when I get a chance.

-Hermione

Harry closed the letter and tucked it inside his bag, then scribbled a quick note that he wouldn't be at the open Quidditch pitch that night because he had detention with Trelawny. Harry checked to make sure that no one was in the dorm room, placed the note on Ron's bed, and hurried out of Gryffindor Tower without looking anyone in the eye.

Detention did anything but clear Harry's mind. The task was menial and required no thought, therefore leaving Harry's conscious to wander through the various problems at hand.

By the end of the detention, Harry's mind was thick with the scent of tea leaves and heavy perfume from the Divination Tower, but he made his way towards the dungeons all the same.

Upon entering the Potions classroom, the haze in Harry's head lifted immediately, the stinging cold permeating the school robes with no difficulty. The door leading to Snape's office was shut, but Harry knocked, his pulse racing.

There was no answer the first time, but the door swung open on Harry's second knock. Snape glared down at Harry, a sneer twisting his lips, obviously irked at being disturbed.

"What are you doing down here, Potter? Certainly you realize that your curfew is steadily approaching, and your Occlumency lessons aren't until later in the week. I dare say you're not here to get an early start, though Merlin knows you'll need it."

Harry pursed his lips, willing the anger rising within to subside before the Potion bottles sitting on Snape's desk exploded. "Actually, I came here to talk to you about the Proteus potion that we finished today."

Snape raised an eyebrow, waiting for Harry to continue.

"You had us brew that Potion just so you could use it on Ron and Draco and reveal Draco and me, didn't you?"

Snape showed no reaction to this statement, other than his eyes flashing triumphantly. "Why, Mr. Potter, I had no idea there was anything between you and Mr. Malfoy other than friendship. That is certainly news to me."

"I don't think so," Harry retorted, his eyes narrowing. "You did it because you didn't like seeing me and Draco together, but there was no way you could interfere, being a teacher, so you just had to destroy us in one way or another."

"There is no reason why I would take interest in the personal affairs of a student, Mr. Potter," Snape replied coldly, his dark eyes exuding hatred, "but I can say I do not know what Mr. Malfoy sees in you."

"That gives you no right to do what you did." Harry's fists were now clenched at his sides, knuckles cracking in an effort not to hit anything.

"If the potion we brewed today effected your life in any way, I'm am sorry, but--"

"You did it on purpose!" Harry yelled, and the ingredients cabinet along the back wall shook a little. "You knew perfectly well what was going to happen, and you did it so that Draco and I wouldn't be together anymore!"

"Ten points from Gryffindor for insubordination." Snape's eyes glinted like polished obsidian in the dim, flickering torchlight of the classroom. "Now, Mr. Potter, I suggest that you return to your dorm, before you lose more points for breaking curfew, or otherwise."

Harry turned on his heel, stalking out of the classroom and through the dungeons with brisk speed, tears stinging the corners of his eyes.

"Oh look, it's wee Potty out for a nighttime stroll in the dungeons." Harry heard Pansy's whiny voice echo off the walls, but didn't bother to look for her. "Is the little ferret not coming home to his Potty tonight?"

Harry's anger rose immediately, and he felt the energy fly from him as a vase exploded. The shrieks, screamed threats, and then fearful silence that followed made him mentally smile, and he concluded that his visit to the dungeons hadn't been completely fruitless.

When Harry climbed through the portrait hole, the noise in the common room all but ceased, and Harry felt the eyes of his housemates follow him up the stairs. Harry didn't look at one of them. The dorm was empty, again, and Harry climbed through the Porthole without a backwards glance.

Knocking on Draco's door, Harry was torn between wanting to see Draco and afraid to face the Slytherin's wrath. Either way, the door remained shut, even when Harry tried to open it manually and with unlocking spells.

"Draco," he called, slumping against the door. "Draco, it's me, open up, will you? I want to explain."

Silence. Harry didn't hear anything when he pressed his ear to the door, either.

__

So he's either sitting as still as can be, or he found some way to lock the room even when I'm not there. Joy. Harry sighed and disappeared into his room, resigning himself to a night full of homework, worry, and insomnia.

****

………………………………............................................................................................

The next morning when Harry got up, Draco had already gone, leaving no sign that he had even been there the night before. Harry listened through the Porthole again, waiting for the others to get up. It was almost seven before he heard any sign of life in the room, and eavesdropped on the conversation as he had done the night before.

"Doesn't look like Harry came in at all last night; the curtains are still open and the bed doesn't look slept in."

"I didn't hear him come in."

"Maybe he came in late and left early."

"Oh, give it up, Neville. He was probably out screwing with the ferret."

At this several exclamations were made, and although all of them were in Harry's defense, Harry still felt a lump rise in his throat.

"You know Harry's not like that, Ron, just calm down. There's probably a reason, a _perfectly innocent _reason, why he's not here."

"Besides, Draco hasn't been seen with Harry at all in the past twenty-four hours. They still haven't patched things up."

Harry waited for the rest of the morning chatter to subside before he levered himself into the dorm, grabbed his shower things, and headed for the Quidditch locker room.

Harry's entire day mimicked the second half of the day previous: meals were taken in the kitchens with Dobby as a meal partner and Harry sat with various people from other houses in all of his classes. Harry was grateful that none of his classes that Tuesday were with the Slytherins.

By the end of the school day, Harry was emotionally drained and dreading the upcoming Quidditch tryouts. The dormitory again empty, Harry had taken the opportunity to throw himself face first onto his bed, pull the curtains shut, and groan. He felt as if his thoughts were too numerous to fit in his head, a feeling that was becoming increasingly familiar as each day passed.

Ron, Hermione, and Draco were avoiding him constantly. He knew the others, with the exception of Seamus, were wary of sleeping in the same room who was now admittedly gay. Seamus was avoiding him partly because he didn't like Draco, and partly because he was jealous.

Harry sighed and rolled over, his fingers worrying the edge of the worn comforter. Giving up trying to organize his thoughts, he crawled out of bed and over to his trunk.

__

Where are those damned jellybeans? Harry searched, hoping the sugar rush would cure his low spirits, when something sharp scraped across his open palm.

Harry jerked his hand out of the trunk, examining the shallow cut as blood began to pool in the groove. Harry licked the blood away and used his other hand to push back the contents of his trunk.

At the bottom were the jagged shards of Sirius' two way mirror. One of the sharper edges had fallen next to Harry's candy stash. Reaching in, Harry took the piece out, turning it over and over between his hands.

__

Merlin, I just have to go and mess everything up, don't I? Draco hates me, Ron and Hermione hate me, hell, even the other guys who fancy boys hate me. I'm even a failure at being gay. Harry sat in front of the trunk lost in self deprecating thoughts for quite some time.

"Harry?" Harry, who hadn't noticed anybody come in, jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Neville stood behind him, pale, with a concerned look on his face.

"Oh, 'lo Neville," Harry said carefully, not wanting to scare the boy away. This was the first time they had spoken in days. "What are you doing up here? Isn't it time for supper?"

Neville nodded. "Yea. I just came up here to get my scarf before - _what did you do to yourself?!_"

Harry was taken aback. "What are you talking about?" he asked, incredulous.

"Your hand! It's all bloody!" Neville grabbed Harry's hand and pointed to it, as is Harry couldn't see the dried red stains for himself.

Harry shrugged. "Oh that? I just cut myself, no big deal."

"You cut?!" Neville exclaimed. "You idiot! I know that what you're going through can't be fun, but that's no reason to draw blood from your own hand! Especially not with dirty piece of old broken glass like that. It's probably covered in germs and bacteria and - what's so funny?"

Harry, who had slowly gone from confused shock to realizing that Neville had misinterpreted him, finally began to chuckle, then laugh, and had collapsed on the bed in fits by the time Neville noticed.

"Oh, Neville, no, I appreciate the concern, but that's not what happened." Harry motioned for Neville pull up a chair, but instead his dorm-mate decided to sit on the bed next to him. "I didn't purposely cut myself. I was reaching into my trunk to get something to eat, and a piece of a broken mirror sliced my palm. It's nothing big, it just needs to be cleaned."

Neville smiled sheepishly. "I . . . I've just been worried about you ever since Ron told us about you and Draco. You seemed to want to be left alone, and I know how you like your space, and I didn't want to intrude, so . . ."

Harry gave a small smile. "I understand. I can be a complete bastard sometimes, can't I?"

Neville opened and closed his mouth a few times before reddening slightly and blushing. Harry laughed.

"Do you want me to bandage that for you?" Neville offered, and Harry accepted.

They sat in companionable silence, Neville looking for his healing creams, before either spoke. Neville broke the silence.

"So, is it true, everything that Ron said?" Neville asked, his voice quiet.

"I dunno what he said," Harry admitted, avoiding Neville's gaze, "but most of it probably is."

"Well, I for one want to know the truth." Neville returned to the bed, bandages and creams in hand, and started to dress the cut. "What happened? From what I've heard, it sounds like a big misunderstanding."

Harry smiled. Neville was sharper than Harry had given him credit for, and was currently the only one who was willing to listen to the full story. It took a good while, even with Harry leaving out the part about the Portholes, but the story spilled out without interruption. By the end of it, Harry felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off his chest and he seemed to breath a little easier.

"So you and Draco have kept this a secret for months?!" Neville asked. "I'm impressed; usually stuff can't stay secret around here for more than a day."

Harry sighed. "It was tough, especially trying to keep it from Ron and Hermione."

Neville frowned. "That was stupid thing to do."

"Yea," said Harry. "But I was afraid that they would react like they did."

"You need to put more faith in your friends than that." Neville had finished bandaging the cut and admired his handiwork. "Coming out would have been hard, I know, but they are your _friends_ for a reason."

Harry shook his head. "No, I don't think they would have a problem with me being gay. I mean, it would take some adjusting, but they accept Seamus for being bi. No, I think the major reason is that it's Draco."

"But we've all been hanging out with him since school started, and he's not the arrogant bastard he once was. What would they have against him?"

"All those years of animosity between us. Ron's still a bit sore, you know he never forgets anything like that. But I really thought Hermione would be over it." Harry buried his face in his hands. "I ruined everything."

Harry felt Neville's hand collide solidly with the back of his head, creating a loud THWACK!

"Oh, stop moping. This is all fixable. It's just not going to be one of those overnight things." Neville stood up and leaned against the bedpost, then fell into thought for a long moment.

"When did you realize you were gay?" Harry's head snapped up, and his eyes searched Neville's for any sort of anger and hurt. Finding none, he answered.

"I didn't _realize_ it." Harry thought back to when he and Draco had been talking, that first night Draco had come to him for help. "I was just attracted to him, something about him drew me to him, and I remember thinking at first that what I felt was wrong. But then he kissed me, and it just felt so _right_."

Harry looked up at Neville. "I never really thought about being gay. And it wasn't because of Cho, because I was definitely attracted to her at the time. I guess . . . I just followed what I felt, and it started out as liking, but now it's something deeper. I - I can't explain it."

"Do you love him?" Neville asked. "Could you spend the rest of your life with him?"

Closing his eyes, Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe what I feel could be love, but I blew my chance. Draco wants nothing to do with me now, and I'm pretty sure nothing I do or say will fix it."

"Cheer up. Give him some time to cool off, get him to listen to you, and things will get better." Neville smiled reassuringly. "If things were that serious between you, you'll make up."

"I hope." Harry stood up, stretching. "Thanks, Neville. This has helped, it really has." Harry offered his hand for a handshake, but Neville pulled him into a hug.

"Friends don't shake hands. It's too formal." Harry laughed and gripped Neville tighter, glad that _someone_ was willing to accept him for who he was.

"So we can add one more homosexual to the list."

Neville and Harry turned to see Ron leaning against the doorframe, sneering at them. I thought you were better than that, Neville."

"Oh, Ron, get _over_ yourself," Neville retorted, his voice ice-cold. "Harry is your best friend. Just hear him out."

"Was. _Was_ my best friend." Glaring, Ron stalked over to the pair. "Best friends don't keep secrets from each other, especially about something like that." Ron poked Harry in the chest. "Especially about being _gay _with their worst enemy."

"Ron, Voldemort is my worst enemy," Harry stated matter-of-factly. "And I'm not dating him." Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Neville trying to suppress a laugh. "In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm not dating anybody right now."

"You don't deserve to, not after taking advantage of me like that." Ron stepped back. "You're a bloody whore."

"If I remember correctly," Harry spat, the blood rising to his face as he struggled to keep his voice calm, "You were the one who forced me up against the wall."

"Only because that's what Malfoy's emotions wanted to do!"

"You didn't see Draco snogging Hermione!"

"That's not my fault!"

"At least he has _some_ self control!"

"Oh yes, let's defend the ferret!"

"Don't call him that!"

"You've never had a problem with it before."

"I've never had a problem with _you_ before."

"WILL YOU TWO SHUT UP!" Neville shouted, hands over his ears. "This has bloody got to stop!"

"Yes, it does, _Harry_," Ron fumed. "Once that faggot figures out that his ex is a filthy liar, maybe I'll speak to him again."

"Ron, no--" Harry began, but Ron cut him off.

"You're a traitor, Neville." With that, Ron stormed out of the room, leaving a seething Neville and a despairing Harry in his wake.

"What did I tell you?" Harry whispered, fighting back tears. "It's hopeless."

Neville gave a wan, unsteady smile. "It'll get better, promise. Now, let's go get some supper. I'm starved."

****

………………………………............................................................................................

Harry found that, although sitting with Neville meant that Ron and Hermione sat with other members of the Gryffindor house, at least Dean and Seamus weren't shy about reconciling their friendship with Harry.

"Sorry about that whole thing, mate," Seamus said around a mouthful of meat pie. "I know we were acting like jerks, but you didn't seem to want to sit with us in class. I thought it best to keep our distance 'til things cooled off."

Harry shrugged. "No hard feelings, guys. After what Ron must've said, I can imagine no one wanted to be around me."

"Not really," Dean interjected. "A lot of us wanted to see what was going on, but we've seen you in moods before. We didn't want to provoke you."

"Cowards," Neville muttered, grinning. "It's not like he'd bite."

"Yea, but he could probably hex us. You saw what he did to Malfoy on the train last year." Seamus looked at Harry in mock awe. "It was just _amazing_."

"Oh, sod off, Finnegan," Dean groaned. "You're flirting with him. Leave the poor man alone, at least until he's been single for a week."

"Speaking of which," Seamus said, his voice becoming much softer and more sympathetic, "what's going on between you and Draco?"

Harry looked over at the Slytherin table, where Draco was conversing with several of the prospective Quidditch players that were planning to try out that year. In no way did he show remorse, sadness, regret, or even anger. He didn't so much as shift his eyes in Harry's direction. In fact, he was sitting with his back towards Gryffindor table.

"I don't think I'll be talking to him anytime soon, but I don't know what's going on with _us_, our relationship." Harry ran his hand through his hair while he mashed his peas into his casserole with a knife. "He won't talk to me, acknowledge my presence, anything. It's like I don't exist, all over again."

"All over again? When did you ever not exist to him?" Dean asked. "I thought he's been bothering you all these years."

Harry paused; Dean had raised an interesting point. "It's never been in friendship, though. He's always been torturing me."

"You know what they say," Seamus said, innuendo lacing his voice, "boys always bully the person they like."

"Come off it, Seamus," Neville said rolling his eyes. "It is true, though. He's been obsessed with you since before you set foot in Hogwart's. The distance between love and hatred is as thin as paper."

All three boys looked at Neville, and he blushed a dark crimson. "What? It's true."

"Never heard you say anything profound like that before, mate," Seamus said with a shrug. "Maybe there are a few brains knocking about in that thick skull of yours."

The rest of the meal continued in a friendly banter, and Harry smiled for the first time since the confrontation in the hallway the day before.

"Hey, don't you have Quidditch tryouts tonight?" Dean asked as they were exiting the Great Hall.

"Yea," Harry answered, the knife twisting around again. "That's where I'm headed now. You all can come watch, if you'd like."

"Nah, I have to finish my Herbology homework," Neville explained. "Tell me about it later tonight, ok?"

"Sure." Harry turned to leave the group when he heard Seamus and Dean call for him to wait up.

"Thought you might want some company," Dean said. "You know, since you have to work with the flaming idiot of a Weasel for the next few hours."

"Flaming idiot?" Harry asked incredulously. "Has he been that bad?"

"Worse," Seamus interjected. "He won't shut up about it."

"Well, he'll have to shut up enough to make it through the tryouts," said Harry with a sigh.

"You don't think he'll skip, do you?" Dean wondered as they walked under the stands and onto the pitch.

"Nope," Harry said, gazing up at the myriad of players zooming around in the twilight. "It's Quidditch."

****

………………………………............................................................................................

AsTheyreFalling: This story has been posted in several different places, and thanks to some wonderful fans it's had great word of mouth. Here's the next chapter, just like you asked!

SaFire flamE: Chica, without you, I would have never finished this chapter on time! Thank you for doing such a wonderful beating job. You deserve a chocolate covered Harry, for sure.

Starrarose: Don't you hate the restrictions? Life is life, though, and that's why we also have personal websites! And thank you, it does mean a lot to me.

MachiavellianOrange: Thanks for letting me know about the typo. I told you guys I'm the typo queen.

PeachDander82: I try to keep the story as canon as I can, because I feel that if I deviate too much, it won't be believable. Y gracias muy mucho.

Madam Whitbrook: Well, Hope this little bit of more is good!

Cherry0214: Well, aren't you just the most manipulative little reviewer? Begging and crying . . . Sheesh, you know how to get an authoress to work. ;) I love the way you try to guess stuff . . . It makes me all happy and stuff. Weird . .

Flutter Flute: It's a long story, and it takes a few good sit downs to get through it, but I'm guessing it's worth it! And don't worry about the corny thing, I do that kind of stuff all the time. I SOUND LIKE JKR! DUDE, THAT'S THE BESTEST COMPLIMENT EVER! Remind me when we get closer to the end to tell you how I came up with the title. You won't believe it.

Moonglow-girl: Yea, the reactions were a bit . . . Dramatic. But I love my boy toys . . I can make 'em drama kings if I want. Ehehehehe.

Volleypickle16: That is one original name . . . I hope to keep making a great story, so keep on reading.

Matt: Music on the radio is what makes us all happy and such . . . hums Mary did You Know because a really hot guy sang it at church this evening

Riley: I HAVE ANOTHER OBSESSOR! Whoo . . . My fans are catching my highly contagious diseases! Oops . .

RainyDayRena: I love it when people hear about my stuff through word of mouth! Any chance remembering who told you about it? I myself didn't get much into fan fiction until very recently, actually, it was about March this past year, and look at me now! I never knew _Spellbound_ would turn into something like this, but hey, I'm not complaining! I'd love to have you beta, but I need your e-mail (and IM) if possible. If you don't want to post it here, just e-mail me at kickchick214 aol. Com

Meels on Wheels: I tried to e-mail you chapter 11 to beta, but the e-mail was invalid. I understand about the mid-terms, and that's why SB has been late lately - it takes awhile to write 15-20 page chapters. A Note From The Cast is so much fun to write, especially with all the material out there. Mind if you send me the link to "Snitch"? I dunno if I've read that one . . .

Tom4ever: I LOVE YOUR NAME! And as for the Harry Draco situation, more to come chapter after this . . .

Daja Green: Yea, I have a little poetry obsession (I even wrote that entire Sorting Hat song, that's how much I like it). It has been awhile since I've updated frequently, especially since I had to repost everything, but life is now back on schedule! Yay!

KK, review (it'll be my Christmas present!). HAPPY HOLIDAYS!


	12. Author's Interlude

_A sense of abandonment pervades the room. Dust has settles in all four corners, and the once bright directors chairs that sit in the center have faded to dull reminders of the events that used to take place here. A light casing swings from the tracking above, with not even a burnt out bulb to fill it. There are no tracks on the floor, indicating that no soul has returned for a final visit. Until now._

_Light suddenly peeks through the crack under the door, and voices can be heard in hushed conversation as the knob rattles. A click, then creaking as the door swings open on rusty hinges, blinding light seeping into the room for the first time in years. Four adults step into the room, dressed casually. Their faces are grim, but smiles tug at the corners of their mouths as they peruse the room. Memories come back quickly, reminding them of carefree times and friendly banter. They spend quite some time in silence before anyone can bring themselves to speak._

Harry: It's been a while, hasn't it?

Ron: nods Four years, this Christmas.

Hermione: So much has happened. We've grown. The books are over. The movies are almost finished. The Authoress has left us.

Authoress: clears throat Um, no I haven't. I just I haven't been in touch in a really, really long time.

Draco: glares No shit.

Authoress: Still a snarky git I see. But not quite so little anymore … does a once over

Draco: Ah hell, four years and you STILL have to do that.

_The Authoress gives him a "Well, duh" look._

Ron: Why are you here anyways? I thought you were done with this.

Authoress: I thought I was, too. Just hit a major writer's block and never got back to it. But thanks to the nudgings of several friends, and a burst of inspiration, I have come back to the world of Fan Fiction.

Harry: buries his head in his hands Why me?

Authoress: Because. I say so.

Hermione: Yup, same disembodied voice. Kinda missed it.

Draco: looks at Hermione incredulously

Authoress: So yes, I will be working to get the next chapter of _Spellbound_ up within the next week. And hopefully, my chest of notes will lead to more fics posted in the near future.

_The four look at each other, and sigh. But behind the exasperated expressions, a hint of laughter and mischievousness lingers._

Harry: Let's get to it then, shall we?


End file.
